


NANOWRIMO ONE-SHOTS (MAINLY MCYT)

by cyan13



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: A lot of angst then i thought, AUs, Angst, Brother!Phil, Brother!Techno, Brother!Tommy, Brother!Tubbo, Brother!Wilbur, Brotherly Love, Dadza, Family, Gunshot Wounds, NaNoWriMo 2020, Other, War, father!Phil, ghost - Freeform, i wanna cry, sbi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:41:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 26
Words: 46,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27509998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyan13/pseuds/cyan13
Summary: This is where I'm dropping my one-shots that I will be doing this November.These stories are all au's that were given to me by my friends on Discord. So thank you to them!
Relationships: Sleepy Bois Inc + Tubbo
Comments: 47
Kudos: 266





	1. Twlight Shores (Mafia Au)

**Author's Note:**

> NANO has been kicking my butt, and since this is my first book of one-shots and my first post on this site, I thought yall might like what one-shots I've already done.  
> I hope you enjoy and tell me if you think it needs anything added to it.  
> Enjoy yall!

The city was quiet, and the rain seemed to fall in a sheet over the cold buildings. 

Smoke filled his lungs as he took a puff from his cigarette, letting the gray trail float into the air. The man was looking over the street with a frown, glad for the covering above him. He wore a dark, red jacket over his button-up shirt. A golden chain hung from the belt loops of his blue jeans. Pink hair fell into his face, and he huffed at it. 

He stood outside of a bar, waiting on his brothers to get out or his ride to show up, one of the two. The man was ready to leave, and get warm, not drink and waste his time and energy. Huffing he reached for the doorknob.

A sound off in the side alley of the build caught his attention. He took a look through the window, noticing his brothers talking at the bar counter. With a quick look, he walked into the alleyway. 

In the alley, everything was pretty dark and the light of the city reflected in the puddles that were growing on the ground. And at the other end of the alley, he saw a tall man standing over a small figure, a gun pointing down at him. The pink-haired man stood behind a dumpster, keeping out of sight.

“Just give me the money you own me, kid,” said the man, slightly kicking the figure. The gunman huffed when he got no response. The sound of the gun getting clocked made the pink-haired man tense, his hand going to the inside of his jacket. 

**_Bam! Bam!_ ** Two bullets fired out, and the figure on the ground screamed out before disappearing into a cloud of white smoke. A pile of items landed on the ground, and the man kneeled to look at what his prize is. He seemed dissatisfied at what he found, letting them stay where they were. 

When he turned his back to the alley, he felt the barrel of a gun to his back.

“What ya doing killing kids, Sapnap?” the pink-haired man asked, grabbing onto the man’s shoulder, pulling him tightening on to the gun. “Dream not giving you enough people to kill in your little gang war with the Hermits?”

The man let out a sneer, dropping his shoulder from the man’s grip and turning to face him. Now the pink-haired man could see the man. He had a baggie black jacket over his white shirt, the deem light showed a fire simple on his chest. His joggers began to move slightly in the oncoming breeze. 

He glared at the man, his lip raised in a sneer. “Says the blood god himself,” Sapnap sneered out, pushing the gun from his chest. “I thought you might end up in our little gun show last week. And the without taking out their respawn anchor, this little blood show of ours is going to keep going.”

“Who was that kid you just shot?”

“None of your damn business, pig boy.”

The gun got right under his chin, and Techno clocked the gun back. “Tell me or I’ll add another pretty little scar to ya, Nerd,” he said, his red eyes staring a hole into him. Sapnap gulped. “Now start talking or imma put another piece of lead into your head.”

Sapnap shifted a little in his spot. “That was Tommy Innit, he owns me money for saving his behind last week after the showdown down we had,” he said. “I promised him if he paid me by tonight then his friend would be safe from my little group. Dream agreed, and now I came to collect the money.”

Techno tilted his head for a second before the light changed in his eyes. He pulled the trigger. 

Sapnap feels backward, hitting the ground before he disappeared into a cloud of white smoke. The only things left in his place was his gun and a stack of about a  thousand dollars on the wet ground. 

Looks like the bandana-wearing man lied, Techno mused, picking up the items and shoving them in his pocket. He stood to his feet when he heard the sound of footsteps coming his way. The sound of labored breath coming closer. 

Techno shoved his gun back into the pocket inside his jacket, turning around to see who was coming. Standing in front of the man was a short boy with messy blond hair, his white and redshirt a mess of dirt, and his jeans were ripped at the knees in more places than one. 

The boy froze when he saw Techno standing there. He gulped in fear, trying to back away from the tall man. The boy didn’t get far before Techno reached out and grabbed his arm, and he started to pull himself back. 

“Let me good!”

“Not until you tell me what you were thinking of making deals with a group like the Dream team.”

“I don’t talk with people I don’t know,  _ Sir _ .”

Techno sighed, picking the boy up by the back of his shirt and raised him so they could look each other in the eye while he spoke. “You got balls, and that’s good, but you gotta remember where you live kid,” the kid began to struggle a little bit more. “This is Twilight Shore, the diamond of the frecking country. This place is the crime capital of the world, and this business isn’t for children playing games.”

“I’m not playing a game,” he spat. “And I know what I’m doing, mister.”

Before Techno can ask another question, two figures made it down the alley. The tallest of the two had brown hair, pushed over to rest over his eye. He wore a brown trench coat over his yellow turtle neck, and he wore faded jeans. A guitar case was strapped onto his back. 

The other man wore a bucket head over his head, blond hair sticking out around it. He wore a kimono-style shirt and green pants, sandals on his feet. His eyes landed on Techno as he held the kid, as the two of them stared at the newcomers. 

“I knew we were taking a long time, but when did you have time to attack a child?” the one in the trench coat asked, his eyes scanning the boy while he came to stand next to Techno. “Need him to get you more smokes or something?”

Techno huffed, tightening his grip on the boy. “He was here after coughing up money to the Dream simps,” he informed the two men, his red eyes glaring at the boy. “And if what that arson lover told me is true, he’s got a debt to pay.”

The green-hatted man looked at the boy softly. “What’s your name kid?”

Blue eyes looked up at the other blond. It took the boy a minute but he sighed. “I’m Tommy Innit,” his voice was a whisper. “I just wanted to protect my friend.”

The man gave Techno a look, and he placed the boy back onto his feet. “You’re the Innit boy from the papers,” said the green-clothed man, his eyes taking in the sight of the blond. “Your parents ran Void INC, didn’t they? Why are you out making deals with groups like the Dream Team? Why aren’t you with your family?”

The boy shifted slightly, but Techno noticed. “If you read the paper you would know,  _ Sir _ .” his voice sounded strained slightly. “Can I go now?”

Techno looked at the other men, and he noticed them sharing a look. Why did he have a feeling something was about to happen and Techno was not going to like it? 

“I’m Phil, this is my brothers Wilbur and Techno,” said the hat-wearing man. “Why don’t you come back to our place with us? We can help you deal with the people who hurt your family.” 

Ah, there it was, Techno sighed. Phil was known for taking in kids off the streets, and Wilbur and he were the best examples. The last kid he took in ended up making his group called the Muffins and moved to the other side of the city where it was a little better. They became known as a neutral group, and only attacked when one of them was attacked.

Tommy looked at him with wide eyes, and he seemed speechless. “What?”

“We are known for taking people out, you could say,” Wilbur said, tugging on his coat sleeve. “So what ya say kid, wanna come home with us?”

Tommy nodded, and the two men smiled. Techno looked ready to murder one of his brothers at that point, and they probably could tell from his look. But he noticed a look in Wilbur’s eyes, one he hadn’t seen since the two of them took Techno in. A look that screamed ‘come on, I got your back’. The same look that made that little street rat he once trusted them with every fiber of his being. 

“Who are you guys anyway?” the short blond asked, looking at the three men as they left the alley. 

Techno let out a belly filled laugh, wrapping his arm around Tommy. “We are the Sleepy Boys,” he said, low enough that only the three of them to hear. “We put people to sleep. Literally.”

The three men started laughing while the boy looked between them. He began to wonder what he had gotten himself into; but from the way the men acted and didn’t hurt him like any of the other adults he had met in his short 12 years, Tommy started to like the idea of maybe staying with these guys. Who knew, maybe they could help him stop the people that hurt his parents, and he could get revenge. 

Revenge on the Dream Team for murdering his mother right in front of him, revenge for his father who was shot in his office, and revenger for him for leaving him without a family. 

He looked at the three men as they all walked down the street. But maybe he didn’t have to worry about that because maybe these men could be his family.


	2. Spawn Point Not found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I want Phil on the SMP, and I think a lot of people do. far warning, in this chapter we have a little bit of hurting tubbo and Tommy bout having a panic attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another one-shot, this time with some actual Dadza

The pain was all Tubbo remembered, and the feeling of being trapped. 

Technoblade stared at him while he held the shaking crossbow, the look in his eyes made Tubbo hopeful. But he had a feeling that something was wrong with the blood god. The way his eyes seemed to flicker between being their normal ruby red to a pitch black. Tubbo was already bracing himself before he felt the firework went through his middle, and he could feel little sparks land and burn his face. 

The teen could hear his name being called as he fell backward into the yellow concrete, grasping his middle while falling onto his butt. Sounds were muffled as he held his middle, looking down at it with blackening vision. His hands came away dripping blood, his ears ringing and he watched the once yellow color turn bright orange. 

Orange is a pretty color, Tubbo thought, before a shadow loomed over him. As his vision went almost all black, he saw Tommy. He looked so worried. Why was he worried? The taller teen was trying to break down the fence that kept the small boy inside, and Tubbo smiled. His friend cared.

Before Tommy could get to him, Tubbo felt everything become lighter before everything became black and quiet. No more ringing and no more muffled words. It was quite deafening, really. 

Tubbo was a little confused when he woke up, and it wasn’t because of how late in the day it was. It was where he was that made him think he was still dreaming, or even in a fever dream. 

He woke up in a little room painted a soft green color, in a bed not his own. When he tried to get up, a stinging pain ran through the middle of his chest. It was like his heart wanted to rip itself from his chest, to escape into the world. Tubbo was able to get himself rested on his elbow, to get a better look around. 

The first thing he saw was the white bandages around his chest and left arm, the middle stained a little pink. He tried to remember where he had set his spawn because he knew this was not the place. 

On the bed was a ton of pillows, each a different color of green. It was nice, actually. Nestled in the pillows was a stuffed, knitted bee, with a happy little face on it. The teen gave strained smile at it, wincing at a sharp pain that rolled throughout his body. 

Along the ways of the room were little painted pictures that a child looked to have drawn, dotted around like specks. In the room were the bed he was in, a small desk, and a dresser with a box with the little red cross on it. A first aid kit, his mind supplied for him, as he tried to throw the blanket over his legs. The pain from just moving his arm makes his chest start aching. It makes him what to scream, shout, and cry. 

The door of the room opened, and Tubbo tried to go still. He had no clue where he was or who had him, but he knew that it was a good idea to stay quiet and not make a sound. But that changed when he saw who opened the door, a smile made its way onto his face.

In the open door frame was a man he had not seen since he was a kid, and before he left his family to join Tommy on the DreamSMP. He wore a green kimono shirt and a pair of dark green pants. Brown sandals on his feet and a green and white bucket hat on his head. In his hands was a tray, on it was a small wooden bowl, a hand towel, and what looked like a small cup. The man looked a little startled to see the teen sitting up slightly

“Your awake,” he said, sitting down the tray onto the desk. He smiled at him, sitting on the foot of the bed. That when Tubbo noticed the bed speared was lime green, but not so bright it hurt his eyes; it was more of a dull color. “How do you feel, Tubbo?”

Tubbo gave the best shrug he could give. “I don’t really know?” his voice cracked, and he started coughing. His throat began to hurt, and he had to look away so he could get it out of his system. “Phil, where am I?”

The man looked a little hesitant to answer. “You’re in my Hardcore world, Tubbo,” the hat-wearing man said with a sigh. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it really quickly. “What do you remember? Before you woke up here.”

“I was giving my speech at the Feastival in Manburge,” the blond boy said, looking off at the window. “Schlatt placed me in a box and said I was a traitor, and he had Techno come up on the stage, and-”

Phil placed both his hands on Tubbo’s shoulders, trying to ground him. “Hey, deep breaths, ok?”

The teen nodded, taking in shaky breaths. “Techno didn’t look like he wanted to hurt me,” he said, his voice a little more even. “Wilbur told me Techno wouldn’t hurt me, and I believed him. He shot me with a firework, and I remember the light and Tommy looking scared. I think he was worried?”

“And when was the Festival?”

“October 14.”

Phil sighed. “Tubbo, it’s November already,” he told him, watching as Tubbo’s eyes grew in size. “You have been out cold for a month.” 

The teen shook his head. That had to be wrong, right? There was no way that could be possible. He should have been able to wake up right after he got killed. But then how was he with Phil in another world? That didn’t make sense.

“Then how on earth am I here?”

The hat-wearing man sighed, shrugging. “That’s the thing that I don’t know how you got here.”

Tubbo pushed himself into a sitting position, his chest hurting from the movement. Phil helped him, making sure he did not pull anything in his actions. The teen was regretting his actions, wishing he had just stayed laid down. 

“I’m going to go get you some soup,” Phil told him, standing while making sure Tubbo was comfortable in his place. “I’ll bring you some books on my way back so you have something to do, alright? I need to go call my sons and tell them you’re alright.”

Tubbo nodded, still in shock. He didn’t even hear Phil leave the room. 

In the hall, Phil sighed. For a month he has been worrying over the young boy, hoping that he would wake up soon. He had waited for so long, and now that he was awake, he really didn’t know what he was going to do. 

Since the day that Tubbo appears in a pool of blood outside his door, Phil had been hoping by some miracle that he would be alright. He didn’t even leave his house unless it was for important things like getting food from his farm, taking care of his animals, or getting more wood for the fire. He even had time to build a little add-on for Tubbo, so the boy could have his own room. 

The man-made his way into his kitchen, getting the ingredients out to make vegetable soup. He thought of what his sons would say when he told them the news of their friend was awake. Phil wished he could see his sons again, to see how many have changed since they had seen each other. 

Without him realizing it, the soup was finished. He pulled out a bowl and spooned in a helping. Right, when he began to scan looked a nearby bookshelf for a few books Tubbo might like, his communicator on the kitchen counter began to beep. It startled him, and he fumbled with a book he had just pulled out. But when he saw the name on the communicator, his eyes light up a little. 

Phil hurried to the counter, placing the book down, and answered the device. “Tommy!” his voice rang out, smiling. “How are you?”

The voice on the other end broke his heart really. “Dad, we still can’t find him,” Tommy’s voice sobbed out, and Phil could hear the tears in his voice. “Niki and Fundy can’t find him, and Wilbur is just gone insane, and Techno has closed himself off, and I can’t keep doing this.”

Phil just remembered that he hadn’t told any of his kids that Tubbo was there with him. He listens as his youngest son sobbed into the communicator, wish he could hold him, and tell him it would be alright. But alas, his child was too far from him and he could do nothing to comfort him with. 

An idea hit him. “Tommy, hold on a sec, I need to go get someone,” that made the other voice quiet down. He could still hear his sobbing breath and it made him feel so bad, telling his son to hold on. He made his way back down the hall. “I promise this will make you feel better Tommy.”

Phil opened the door to Tubbo’s room, seeing him look out the window at the fall trees. The boy looked up at the hat-wearing man, looking at him confused. “Tubbo, do you want to talk with Tommy?” 

The blond paused for a minute, before nodding and the father could hear his son’s otter confusion. Phil gave the boy the communicator and the reaction was almost instinct. He could hear his son yelling the boy’s name, and Tubbo was smiling, and chatting up a storm. Before long, tears began to fall down Tubbo’s face, as he laughed and grinned and just seemed happy. Happy to hear the voice of his best friend. 

Before long, Tubbo gave the device back and Phil placed it on speaker mode, sitting back down at the end of the bed. “Tommy, I told you it would make you feel better, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, dad, whatever,” and there was the Tommy he knew and loved. Brash and stubborn. “What are we going to do now? Everyone thinks Tubbo is gone forever.”

Phil looked over at Tubbo, who had wrapped his arms around his middle. “Can you get me Dream’s number? I need to ask that green boy a question,” he said, and he watched Tubbo’s eyes light up. “Imma get a teleport over to the SMP and Tubbo is coming with me. We need to knock some serious sense into your dear older brother, Tommy.” 

The three began to plan, and soon he saw Tubbo fall asleep on his bee stuffed toy. And the sound of his son fast asleep, from the sound of his snores. He quietly turned off the device and got up from the bed. He gently moved Tubbo a bit just so he would be more comfortable and not asleep sitting up, before leaving the room.

Phil would make sure his family was protected, and the first step was helping his youngest. The DreamSMP had not even seen the rage of this father, not yet at least. 


	3. Tale of a Traitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tubbo has died.  
> Tommy had run away, blood stained his hands.  
> A family had been broken during a war, and the death of one broke them all. Two fathers lost their son, and three brothers lose their youngest brother.  
> But five years have passed, and pain still ruled the land. a demon hunted for pray, and a family struggled to keep themselves together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some angst, peoples

The land had been attacked many times over the last five years. 

Dreamon has killed many of them at this point, looking for his revenge. The one green, smiling man was now a red, frowning man. Stained with the blood of friends and family. Wilbur had stashed himself away at this point, hiding from the mourning father. He had hidden with his son and Niki, trying to keep them safe. 

In his office one day, while trying to map out a plan to stop the demon who had possessed the leader of the other side. The war for L'Manburge was called off when one of their own killed the child of the green man. 

His brother killed their nephew, a teen who he saw as a brother. Wilbur watched Tommy kill Tubbo right in front of him.

He remembered it clearly, even after all these years. Tommy had stabbed the shorter blond right through the back and held him as he took his last breaths, comforting him in his labored breaths. Wilbur watched his brother kill their nephew. 

He had tried to attack the rest of them after, but he was stopped. Tommy had runoff, with no weapon or armor. Everyone thought him dead. 

Wilbur was talking out of his memories by Niki, shaking his shoulder. The short woman looked at her friend concerned, noticing a far away in his eyes. 

"Are you ok?" She asked softly, sitting down on the edge of Wilbur's desk, placing his hands in her lap. 

He nodded, looking out the window of his office. "Yeah, I’m just…..," he trailed off, his brown eyes flickered to a picture on his desk. "Just memories." 

Niki sighed, hopping down from her place and dug out a white envelope dropped it onto the desk. “Eret dropped this off a little awhile ago," she informed him, placing it in front of him. "Said you might want to read it.” 

She took one last looked at him, as he stared at the letter. Not touching it. Niki sighed before leaving, closing the door to give him privacy. 

When the door clicked shut, Wilbur picked up the mail he had gotten. He recognized the handwriting, one he hadn't seen in almost five years at this point. One he thought he might not see again. 

Opening it, his eyes rolled over the words. Phil was asking them to come home. Techno would be there, and the last remaining brothers could see each other after all that had happened. 

They can mourn all of the family they have lost, and those they had no clue if they were even still themselves. 

Wilbur stood to his feet and rushed out of his office. He needed to find Fundy and Niki, tell them he was going to be away for a while. 

He had a family reunion to get to. 

Fundy was sitting in the living room with his cat, watching the fire burn in the fireplace. His fur covered ears twitched when he heard the footsteps of his father walk in. 

"Hey dad," he said, watching him come sit next to him. "What up?"

Wilbur smiled slightly. Ever since they had to go into hiding from the Dreamon, his relationship with his son had become much better than what it was during the war. 

"I'm going away for a little while to see your uncles," said the brown-haired man. "Behave for Niki alright?" 

Fundy rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, will do, dad." He looked down at his cat. "Um, say hi to uncle techno and Phil for me, please." 

His dad nodded, standing with a frown. "Don't know when I'll be back, so just be careful if you have to go outside, and try not to bribe Niki into making your cookies."

"Well, I did just pack these cookies for your brothers and you," said a voice from the door. Both boys looked over and saw the blond-haired woman, a package in hand. Niki smiled at them. "We will be fine Wilbur. Go see your brothers." 

Wilbur smiled, giving a quick hug to his son and friend, before taking the package and going to pack a bag for his trip. 

His ride was his little brother's skeleton horse, a creature that seemed to never grow sick or die. He was shoving all his things into the side bags, making sure not to smash the cookies. Wilbur started to pet the horse, staring into the empty eye sockets of the animal. 

“Dad, are you sure it’s a good idea to be going anywhere right now?” Fundy asked from the door, leaning on the frame. “What if uncle Dream showed up and hurt us?”

Wilbur sighed, turning to face his son. “Fundy, if that happens, I promise your uncle won’t be able to walk when I’m done with him.”

The half fox began to chuckle, thinking of what would happen to his uncle. “I love you, dad, ok? Be careful.”

Saying goodbye to his son was never easy, nor was it something he liked doing. But he managed when it mattered. 

Hopping onto the back of L’manhorse, he waved at his son and rode out of their base. Wilbur smiled a little, he was finally getting to see his brothers after so long, after so much heartbreak in the course of only a few years. But seeing Techno and Phil again would soften that hurting a little. 

The path to Phil’s home was overrun with vegetation. Young trees and bushes made the path seem smaller, and sunlight glared down between the branches. The sound of birds singing, animals running around, and L’Manhorse’s footsteps. Wilbur started to quietly hum, an old song he’s doesn’t remember. He’s just happy to get to see his brothers, even if the four of them have been reduced to three.

After about an hour of riding, a noise caught Wilbur’s attention. He stopped, and whipped his head around, his hand resting on his sword hilt. A red cloak caught his attention, making him go still. Please not him, anyone but him….

Out of the bushes stepped someone he had not seen many, many years. The man had faded pink hair, eyes a blood color as he stared at Wilbur; a golden crown sat on his head. He had on a white button-up shirt and black jeans ripped at the knees. Over his shoulders rested a long, red cloak like the outfit. The shape of a sword stuck out from the fabric, and Wilbur saw the worn out handle. 

“Techno.”

“Wilbur.”

The brown-haired man jumped down from the horse, standing in front of the man. He had to look down at him, as he was just a little bit shorter than he was. The to had a stare-off, neither backing down. It wasn’t until Wilbur smiled that they both broke the stare. Techno opened his arms, and Wilbur almost tackled him into a hug. It had been so long since either had seen the other, and they were so happy to see each other. 

Techno pulled back first, getting a good look at his older brother. He wore a brown trench coat, his jeans were faded almost white, and his boots were covered in mud. The bags under his eyes and the faded look his eyes had. His brother seemed to have gone through a lot these past few years. 

Not that he was much better, Techno thought. 

“How are you doing, Techno?”

“Besides farming my potatoes, I haven’t been doing much,” said the man. His eyes landed on the horse. “I haven’t had the energy to fight anyone since Tubbo died and Tommy ran off. I’ve been trying to find that brat actually, in my spare time.”

Wilbur sighed, pulling his arms around his chest. “I wish I noticed him slipping into his head,” Wilbur said, his voice going into a whisper. “I wish I stopped him or at least told him not to do it.”

The pink-haired man nodded, sighing. “Let’s just get going,” he said. “Phil’s house is just up ahead. Help me with these potatoes?” 

The man blinked, watching at his younger brother pulled out two sacks of potatoes from the bushes. One had a ribbon on it, and the other had a tag on it. Techno was known for farming his potatoes and being a soldier in many wars. But this man was still his brother, even if blood stained his hands more often than not.

Taking one of the sacks and the reins of his horse, Wilbur began to walk with Techno, and the two began to catch up with the last five years. 

The sun was setting when the duo reached their oldest brother’s house. And the two were laughing when they reached the front of the house, picking at each other. The sight of Phil’s house filled them both with joy. Neither of them has seen Phil in almost five, maybe six years at this point. 

Techno knocked on the door, throwing the sack over his shoulder, almost hitting Wilbur. The door opened with a quick motion, and there stood their older brother. His head was covered in his green bucket hat, and he had his green Kimmo on. 

“Wil, Techno,” he said, letting them in. Wilbur left the horse outside, letting it do its own thing. “It’s so good to see you two, how are things?”

Techno placed the sacks on Phil’s dining table, reaching up to adjust his crown. “Been good.”

“I’ve been taking care of Fundy with Niki, trying to stay hidden from your husband.”

“Dream and I are not married.”

“You two acted like it a lot.”

“Just cause we raised a child together does not make us married.”

Phil laughed at the two of them, watching them bicker. He grew quiet as he looked over at the hall. There, blue eyes watched him and his brothers, waiting. The hat-wearing sighed. 

“Ok, now that we all are here, there’s something I need to tell you,” he said, eyes flicker between his brothers and the eyes in the hall. “Or rather someone you need to meet.”

He gestured to the hall, and the two brothers watch as a man stepped out. The man had long, blond hair that reached his shoulders. He wore a worn-out red and white shirt, a faded bandana around his neck. He looks tired, and he looks like he held the world on his shoulder. 

Wilbur looked at him blankly for a minute, before he noticed a scar on his cheek.

“Tommy?”

The teen sighed, looking at Wilbur with dull blue eyes. “Hullo old friends.”

Before anyone said a word or even tried to open their mouths, Techno exploded. The Blood god stood to his feet in an instant, his sword making it into his hand and he pointed it at his little brother, his red eyes seemed to glow. 

“You killed my son, you killed Tubbo!” his voice rang throughout the house. Phil sighed, knowing this was going to happen, but just stood and watch his brother scream at the youngest. “How could you stab him in the back? How could you murder your best friend?” 

Wilbur tried to reach for his brother’s arm. “Techno-” the man brushed off his hand, glaring at the blond in front of him.

The man started to rip at him with his words, waving his sword at him. Tommy had his head bowed, letting the words hit him. Tears built up as he listens to his brother yell and scream at him, trying to not let his emotions be shown. He knew this would be their reaction, at least Techno. 

Looking up at the man, Tommy almost took a step back as his eyes meet those that were not his brothers.

Standing behind Techno was a face that has been haunting him for five long years. Dull gray-blue eyes stared at him unmoving, a trickle of blood stained the corner of his mouth. Tommy could see the blood-stained shirt he wore, his hands dripping in the liquid. Tubbo had been following him for five years, never changing and never moving. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Tommy started to mumble, a sob ready to fall from his lips. “I’m so, so sorry.” 

The ghostly hand of Tubbo tried to rest on his father’s shoulder, but it fell through. The boy almost looked sadder if that was possible. Then, his mouth opened, and a dead whisper could be heard. He used a lot of energy, but the ghost seemed satisfied by the action. 

“It’s...okay,...Papa,” said the whisper, making Techno freeze in his words. It was like his anger was drained out of him, tears welling up in his eyes. And like his sacks of potatoes, Techno fell to the floor. Wilbur was the one to help comfort him, while Phil quickly got over to Tommy. 

Wilbur and Phil shared a look. The oldest guided the youngest out of the room and down the hall, while Wilbur stayed with Techno. The ghost watching his father and uncle.

Down the hall, Phil leads Tommy into his room. He sat down on the bed with the twenty-year-old, letting him just sob into his Kimmo. He was just slightly rocking the teen, letting him let it all out. 

“I knew this was a bad idea,” Tommy muttered softly, not looking up or moving his head from Phil’s arm. “I shouldn’t have asked you to send those letters. This was all a bad idea.”

Phil sighed, gently taking the blond’s shoulder, making him look up at him. “Tommy, this is a step in the right direction,” he tried to explain. “You haven’t seen them in so long, and maybe soon we can all be back to a normal family again.”

Tommy didn’t say a word, just wiping his face and nose with his bandana. Even after all these years, he thought he was ready, he thought they would forgive him. But who was he kidding? The game of life seemed never to play his card, did it? 

He heard Phil sigh, placing his hand onto Tommy’s long hair, running his fingers through it. A soft humming coming from him. 

A shouting sound coming from the main room of the house, making Tommy flinch from Phil’s hand. His eyes looked up to face his door. “I need to talk with Techno,” he whispered, swallowing quietly. He looked up at Phil, who held his hands in his lap, watching him. “I know this is all my fault, and I need to make up for all the problems that I started.”

Phil sighed, giving an encouraging look, before nodding. The blood stood up, taking a deep breath, and exiting the room. The sound of shouting filled his ears, making him regret his desitions to leave his room. 

Sitting on the floor of the living room was a crying Techno and Wilbur trying to comfort him. Tubbo standing over them, trying to help his sobbing father. The grey-blue eyes darted to him, as he stood frozen in the hall. The blood-stained hands reached out to him, gesturing for him to enter. 

Tommy stepped on a creaky floorboard and making the two men look up at him, and his breath caught in his throat. The pink-haired man’s eyes were almost solid red from how stained they became while crying, his shirt a mess from Wilbur hugging him. The war general was not much better, his hair a mess from running his hands through it, making him look a little crazy. 

“Techno, I-”

The man wiped his face with his sleave, his face coming away with a snare. “You don’t get to say a word you murderer,” his voice sound horse, from all the crying and screaming he was doing earlier. He stood to his feet, Wilbur trying to keep him down. “Wil, he killed Tubbo, my son. Your Nephew. One of your soldiers.”

Wilbur grabbed Techno’s arm, pulling his back as he stood. “But hurting our brother is not the answer, Techno,” he said, pleading with the man. The brother stared at him with a look that he had seen many times on the royally dressed man. The look of wanting his hands dirtied with the blood of his enemies. 

The man blew air out of his nose, looking over at his brother. “I don’t trust you, and I don’t think I ever will.” then it was like something snapped in him, a change happened in his eyes. It was like something broke at that moment, and the Blood God showed his face. He roared, drawing his sword with a flourish. “I’m done being the mourning father, I want your blood, Tommy. And I’m going to get it.”

Tommy took a step back, trying to get away from his brother, but trip over his feet and fell on to his butt. He tried shuffling back more, but he seemed to be frozen into place. 

The commotion seemed to have gotten Phil to come in the room, but with only enough time to watch Wilbur try and grab Techno, and then being pushed into the coffee table. It all seemed to go into slow-mo, the brothers watching the musician fall and hit his head. 

For Wilbur, the world went a little blurry before it all went black, like the ending of a nightmare, and the jump scare was about to begin. But it never came, and the sound of his brother’s shouting his name seemed to fade off into the night. 

The feeling of being shaken woke him up, and he shifted in his bed, not wanting to wake up. The feeling of his blanket felt too good to even move and his eyes felt like lead. Then the shaking continued. 

“Dad, come on, wake you,” said the voice of Fundy, but it sounded weird, why did it sound so weird? Turning over, his eyes fluttered open. His brown eyes meet those of his sons, which held an exciting look in them. “It’s Halloween! Come on, get up. Uncle Phil, Uncle Techno, Uncle Tommy, and Tubbo are waiting with Niki in the courtyard!”

Wilbur blinked as his son tried to pull on his arm, to get him up and out of bed. Why did his son look so young? Wasn’t Fundy almost to his shoulder when he left that morning or was that him just dreaming? The man let himself be pulled to his feet, laughing slightly at the half fox boy. 

He smiled at his son and patted him between the two fox ears. “Let me get changed and I’ll be out shortly, ok?” he said, and Fundy smiled, nodding before running off, his little tail swinging after him. Wilbur looked over at his mirror and what looked back at him confused him. 

Brown eyes were not filled with mourning, brown hair has not tinged grey, and he had his uniform on, minus the coat. What on earth was happening? Why did this seem like a dream? Did he dream about all the things from the last five years? 

Sighing, Wilbur shoved his feet into his boots and grabbed his coat, ready to see who was waiting in the courtyard. The walk from his room was quick and the sound of laugher filled his ears, and he could hear music. What a lovely sound. 

When he got to the open area of L’Manburge, he looked over at the smiling faces. He aw his brothers, Tubbo, Fundy, Niki, and Eret, all laughing and not dead. Or hurt. On the wall, he noticed Dream watching them, but mostly his son as he trained with Tommy with stone swords. 

Niki noticed him first, excusing herself to come to talk with him. Her hair was tied back in a long ponytail, swishing around her as she bounces around her. Her grin was contagious and made him want to smile. But his confusion was too great, and his frown was heavy. What on earth was happening? Who knew at this point. 

“Wilbur, your up,” she said, smiling. “What took you so long? I sent Fundy to go wake you up. You good?”

The man looked at her oddly. That morning he saw scars on her face, and now she had none. It was like everything was taken back in time. Her uniform was still its same color, she didn't wear the sweater from that morning. 

His eyes went over to look at Tommy and Tubbo, watching them fight with their sword. He could hear them laughing and picking at each other. Like they did before the death of Tubbo; before the massacre of their land happened. Before he lost his brother and nephew. 

But as Niki grabbed his shoulder, trying to knock him from his thoughts, Wilbur realized what he was seeing was real. These people were real, and the emotions they gave out were real.

The sound of Fundy screams laughing knocked him from his thoughts. He watched as Eret chased after the little fox hybrid, pretending to be a monster. He smiled at the sight, before his eyes landed on his two other brothers, watching them just talk near the van. 

He looked over at the woman he likes to call his best friend. “Yeah Niki, I think I’m good.”

It was all a dream after all.


	4. Storm Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy has never liked loud sounds, even if he liked to be the loudest in the room. He was just not prepared for the storm that hit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I needed some comfort, so I wrote this. Have fun-

Tommy was excited about tonight. 

After about a week of begging and begging, even doing extra chores before his father agreed to it. He had to promise to not do anything crazy.

Tubbo and Tommy had been planning a sleepover for a month before they brought the idea up to their parents. At first, they all were against the idea, since they knew how much trouble the two got into on a daily. After a while the three adults let them have it.

But there was one condition. 

The two ten-year-olds had to stay over at Tommy’s house where Phil could watch them, and make sure they did nothing that could hurt or harm anyone. They were to stay in the living room and watch movies, and eat junk food and just be kids for the night. 

Yeah, that didn’t go as planned. 

Phil got a call around ten that night that something had happened to Techno. The two ten-year-olds watched from over the back of the couch as the man paced the kitchen, running his hand through his hair, and Tommy could tell that his dad was stressed. 

“What’s happening?” Tubbo whispered to him, blue eyes looking over at him.

Tommy shrugged. “I have no clue,” he muttered back. “I think I heard him say Techno though.”

The two watched as Phil sighed, placing his phone on the counter. He looked up the stairs, lending on the hand railing. “Wilbur!” 

“What?” called the voice from un the stairs. 

“Get down here!” 

The two boys watched as a boy with a yellow sweater and black jeans hurry down the stairs. He had a pencil in his hand, and he looked a little tired. He looked up at Phil, his eyes narrow. “I was working on a song, what ya need Dad?” 

Phil ran a hand across his face. “Techno just called me to go pick him up,” he told the teen. “He told me that something happened at his fencing lesson, said something about his sword was too pointy. Can you watch Tommy and Tubbo for a while? Just until I get back.”

The brown-haired boy stared at his father. “No way. Not happening.”

“You don’t even need to watch them, just make sure they don’t do anything stupid,” Phil told his oldest son. “Please? If you do, I will let you have the rest of the ice cream in the freezer.” 

Wilbur seemed to think it over, before nodding. The three boys watched as Phil gathered his coat and picked his phone back up. He placed a quick kiss on his kid’s foreheads, as he made his way around the room to the door. The man picked up his keys from the hook by the door, he waved bye before leaving. 

The older teen turned to the two boys, staring at their place on the couch. “Ok, listen up, you two just watch your silly movies and don’t bother me,” he told them, stepping backward on the stairs. “I got a song to write.”

Tommy knew his brother wasn’t normally this cold about watching him, but he knew Wilbur had a song due for his music class on Monday. So, he watched as the brown-haired teen hurried back up the stairs and the sound of a door closing reached his ears. 

An explosion from the movie behind them brought Tommy from his thoughts. He flopped back onto his butt, letting out a sigh. “Well wanna get back to the movie?”

Tubbo nodded, not commenting on how Wilbur acted. 

Midway through the second movie, they could hear the rain start to fall against the roof. It startled Tommy from his thoughts.  _ It's just a little bit of rain _ , Tommy tried to reassure himself. It is _ not like its _ -

**_BOOM!_ ** The feeling of the house shaking makes the boy jump and hold onto one of the couch pillows tightly. His eyes are stranded on the tv, seeing the different colors, but not actually taking it in. his mind is so filled with thoughts to even try. He tried to fight it, to just watch the movie and forget about the loud sound. But nature was an again him in this fight it seemed. 

**_Boom!_ **

Before he knew it, he had fallen into thoughts of his past.

_ Momma and Daddy were fighting again, but this time he knew it was about him. From how he heard his name being shouted. The four-year-old heard something crash, and he flinched from the sound.  _

_ Then the door slammed open, and Tommy saw a new dent in the wall. “Thomas, go pack a bag honey,” his mother told him, not looking at him. “Momma needs to take you somewhere.” _

_ Tommy didn’t question her, not wanting her to be mad. He didn’t like it when Momma was angry, she was scared when she was. His parents were both scared when they were mad. Holes in the walls were proof of that. _

Tommy didn’t know what his parents fought over, or how it involved him. But the place he was dropped off at was scary. And the people there were not nice to the little boy. The other kids like to pick on him and the adults yelled at him and-

He was taken from his thoughts by arms wrapping around him, and the gently rocking the person was doing. Tommy opened his eyes, not realizing they were closed. He saw that he had his face in the crook of Tubbs's shoulder, his face against the cool fabric of the green sleeping shirt. Tommy realized he was crying. Why was he crying?

“It's ok Tommy,” Tubbo muttered, holding his friend close. He didn’t want his friend sad, even if he had no clue what was happening in Tommy’s head, but he knew that it made him sad. And being sad was not something he likes to see his friend be. “Don’t worry, I'm sure everything is going to be alright.”

The blond didn’t say a word, just clung tighter to the boy. Tommy was shaking, trying to make himself stop crying. He was a man, men don’t cry. But as more thunder rolled over the house, Tommy let himself be the child he was. Tears flowed fairly as he listened to the loud sound of the storm outside. 

The two stayed like that for a long time, just holding each other. The storm seemed to go on forever, and their movie was forgotten. It was just them, and neither tried to move. The tv turned off not long after not being used. 

But, with an earth-shaking  _ boom _ , the power cut out. Tommy closed his eyes and held even tighter onto his friend. More tears came when he heard the sound of steps creaking. The light of a flashlight could be seen ghosting over them, and the two boys both looked up. 

Standing on the other side of the couch was a worried looking Wilbur, his phone held in his hand with the light on. When he saw the look on both boy's faces, and the tear-streaked look of his brother, Wilbur hopped over the couch, coming to sit on the other side of Tommy. 

His arms snaked around them both, holding them close. This wasn’t the first time his little brother had panicked when a thunderstorm in the past. But each time that happened, both Techno and Dad were there to help. This time he had Tubbo, who seemed to almost panic at his friends panic. 

A thought came to mind, and he began to hum a tune that he remembered from when he was little. It just came out like water from his hands, coming out like it was natural. 

He just rocked the two boys, trying to keep them calm. Wilbur knew he couldn't do much besides humming and holding them. Tommy slowly started to stop shaking, even just a bit. It progressed. 

By the time that Phil got home with Techno in tow, both ten-year-old were fast asleep in Wilbur's arms and the lights turn back on. Tubbo laying across Tommy's lap, and his brother out cold on his shoulder. 

Techno had a large bandage around his arm, stained a little pink. He blinked when he saw his brothers on the couch and looked up at Phil. the father looked just as confused as his son. 

“What happened?” Phil asked, walking up to the three, kneeling to the boy’s level. 

“Thunderstorm,” Wilbur said sleepily. “Tommy had a panic attack, I think.”

The father sighed, frowning slightly. He should have known this was going to happen, but he just brushed it off like nothing. Wilbur drew his knees to his chest and laid his head on top of Tommy’s, falling asleep quickly. The dad stood to his feet and looked over at the pink hair teen. 

Techno looked at his siblings and Tubbo, before kicking off his shoes and climbing into the place next to them, leaning his head onto Tommy’s shoulder and let Tubbo legs into his lap... It was a pile of children and teens at this point, and Phil chuckled a little. He watched his boys all nod off to dreamland.

The next morning no one talked about their little pile of limbs or the lump of cloth that was their blankets on the floor. No was talked about how Phil smiled at them and hugged Tommy after breakfast, telling him he was sorry.

Even if Tommy had bad birth parents, he had a real family who cared for him, and that's all he cared about. He had a best friend who would always be there for him, even at his worse. They could be friends through thick and thin, and that is why Tommy loved Tubbo so much. His best friend was just awesome like that. 


	5. Ode to L'Manburg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> my retelling of what the song, "Ode to L'Manburg" portrays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have no listened to the song, you should. The creator, Bettlebug is awesome, so go show them some love pls.

_ It all started on a day like any other _

Wilbur stood over the land of the DreamSMP, brown eyes locked on to the stream heading up north.

_ All the salmon had swum to the sea. _

He saw his son run around with tubbo and Tommy, the three little kids all having fun as they raced each other around the open land.

_ When my lover she darted, away down the stream _

The father held his crying son, watching as the child's mother left him to raise the boy on his own. The fox hybrid asking if he was leaving next.

_ With a heart that she'd taken from me _

Wilbur told himself that he would not abandon his son, not as that woman did. he was better than that, and he would prove it. First, he needed to plan.

_ And my chest though it ached, there was hope _

He watched as his family grew older, and all their friends got older. One day he would make a name for himself and his family, he could feel it.

_ A little beacon of light _

"Let make our own country, Wilbur," Tommy said, grinning at his brother. His blond hair was a shaggy mess, almost like his older brother. "We can start without all of the rules of the DreamSMP, make our own rules. Somewhere we can be free."

_ Though my sunniest days were now stolen away _

His group of mixed matched men all laughing around the campfire, the construction of the walls halfway built and they still had to much to do. They just had to wait and see.

_ I still had our son by my side _

Wilbur hugged the redhead to his side, smiling down at him. He loved his son more than anything in the world.

_ And as he looked up at me, with those wondering eyes _

Wilbur pushed him from the area, and the boy looked back at his father with wide eyes. "Dad?"

_ I just knew that I must protect him with my life _

"Fundy, run," Wilbur told, drawing his sword and turning back to face the masked man. "Get your Uncle or even Eret. Just run and don't turn back. "

_ And make a land that is good _

Wilbur throws his arms over Tubbo and Tommy's shoulders, grinning at them. Eret smiled at them from his spot on the log, Fundy, and Niki laughing beside him.

_ And a land that is free _

The man smiled as he wrote in his book, his brother and son by his side. "Suck it, green boy!"

_ For the better of you and of me _

They built their own family and their own story, paving their own path.

_ We'll build these walls, with our own fair hands _

Eret laughed, watching as Tubbo get concrete smeared on his cheek. The teen laughed along, before pelting the older man with a little bit of the mixture. It started a light fight that ended with Wilbur getting hit in the face when he came to see what all the noise was about.

_ Through the wind and the rain and the snow _

Snowball fights and jumping in the mud. A family built on trust and loyalty. Windy days where they just hung out in the walls.

_ And I swear on my life, that I'll stay by your side _

They laughed over dinner, raising their cups of sweet berry juice for a toast. "For L'Manburg!" They all shouted.

_ Through whatever the world has to throw _

"White flag outside your base at dawn or you're dead!" screamed out the voice of a man in the mask, his sword raised up at them. "White flags!"

_ So I summoned my men to my side _

"We are fighting for the sole reason to get away from the DreamSMP," Wilbur said, standing in front of the people he liked to call his friends. "Let us not go down, and let us fight for the land we claim as our own.”

_ And we sung a familiar tune _

"My L'manburg," he muttered to himself, standing on the wall of the country his eyes cast over the people in the land. "My L'manburg."

_ As a final goodbye, with our fists to the sky _

They all gathered around, preparing for what they hoped to be the last fight of this war. 

_ To our past as we started anew _

Wilbur had his arm around his son, his little brother beside him. "I told you we would make history."

_ We built these walls, with our own fair hands _

The man watched as the three youngest of their group ran around the inside of the walls, smiling at the slight of them playing around. And just being kids for the first time in a while.

_ Through the wind and the rain and the snow _

The group huddled close to the fire in front of them, holding on to each other. Tommy and Tubbo held each other as they watched the fire crackle, laughing at stories Eret was telling on the other side of the flame.

_ And we swore that we'd keep an unwavering faith _

Eret smiled at his friends, adjusting his sunglasses as Fundy ran by him, Tommy hot on his heels. It made the man laugh at the two boys.

_ To the land that we carved for a home _

Niki smiled as she watched as her friends smiled and cheered. Tommy, grinning at her, hugging her as the group celebrated their freedom.

_ Oh, the dawn of the day set our country aflame _

The fire burned their land, the evidence of battle all over. No one was safe from the hot flames. 

_ As the sun rose bloody and true _

Wilbur held Tubbo, holding the sobbing boy as Niki stitched up his side. He hated that the boy had to fight, and was sad any time one of the kids got wounded in any of their fights.

_ Arrows burned through the skies, as we swallowed our pride _

"Watch out!" Tommy's voice rang out, pushing Niki out of the way of an arrow. it hit him in the shoulder, and he hissed before yanking the projectile from his body. He raised his sword as the woman asked if he was alright. "We can worry about getting healed up later, for now, let's just get out of here."

_ And we ran with our backs to the moon _

Wilbur pulled Eret, trying to keep him from the arrows that fell from the sky. "Move, we need to get somewhere safe."

_ To our demise... _

The room was small and there was a button on the floor. Tubbo started to wonder what kind of room Eret had made, and then he saw the look on the man's face, he started to worry.

_ From a friend full of lies... _

Tommy glared at him, blue eyes hard. "Eret we trusted you!" The man just gave a tearful smile, and the boy screamed. They all thought the man was someone they could trust, but it seemed like it was never meant to be. 

_ Oh, the break of the day shed it's light _

They needed to regroup, to get more resources. Fundy watched as his family try and move forward, to ready themselves for the days to come in the war. He pulled his pastel jacket closer. They could move forward, he was sure.

_ On our hearts left battered and bruised _

Tommy stood next to Tubbo and Niki, his arm in a sling. he saw cuts on Niki's face and a bandage around Tubbo's leg. 

_ All the hopes that we'd laid, on the home that we made _

Wilbur looked over the wounded group in front of him, trying to find the strength to give his speech, to help lift their spirits. Tears fell instead, and he put a hand over his mouth to hold his sob. His brother wrapped his arm over his shoulder, holding his close. Soon all his friends were hugging the tall man, not saying a word. The general realized it didn't matter if Dream took the land, L'Manburg was the people, not the place.

_ Torn to pieces and left in the blue... _

There was a large hole in the walls from the TNT, and Tubbo walked through the rubble with a frown. It was in pieces, but it was something that could be fixed.

_ But my friend with an angry cry _

"Dream, let's make a deal," Tommy shouted at him, catching the attention of the green, smiley man. "Let the two of us duel. if you win you get my discs." 

_ Held the weight of our world at his side _

"On the count of ten," Wilbur said, standing not far from the two duelists. The two held their bows tightly, each holding a single arrow in their other.

_ Took a trembling stand, with an arrow in hand _

"1, 2, 3, 4..."

_ As he muttered a final goodbye... _

Tommy aimed his bow but wasn't fast enough to dodge the arrow that hit him in the side. He fell into the water below him, the water turning a red color from his wound. 


	6. My Captain, My Captain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tubbo and Tommy have been given a chance to join the crew of a famous ship.  
> But something seems off with the Captain of the Skeld.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the Among us game and the video that I watched.

To gain admission on the Skeld was an honor anyone in the academy wished to have. And Tommy and Tubbo were the top two to be chosen. 

The duo had started their training when they were young, both wishing to be explorers when they were older. And this was the first step in the many they would have to take to reach that goal. 

Tubbo remembered his parents telling him about the famous passengers that once stopped imposters. He wanted to do that, to find and stop the people who tried to kill the passengers. 

And today was the day that the friends would be joining Crew #1628, the group known for taking down imposters with minimal deaths. It made the teen excited. He could not wait to learn from the best of the best. 

Tubbo dragged his pale green bag behind him, worrying he didn’t get enough. He saw Tommy head at the loading dock, talking with his father. His father, Phil, was known for being a marksman who knew every trick in the book for shooting his plasma gun or even improving it. He had retired not that long ago, after an accident where he almost got killed. 

When the man’s oldest son, Wilbur, was four, Phil brought him along for a quick mission. Half the crew was murdered, from what Tommy told him. No one knew how the imposters had gotten on the ship. Just that they had to stop them. 

The thought of stopping his imposter made Tubbo feel giddy. 

Before he could make it to Tommy, however, he ran into a figure in orange. 

Tubbo almost fell onto his behind before a hand steadied him, keeping him on both feet. The teen looked up at the taller man and took in the sight of him. He wore his orange jumpsuit over his orange space suit, red headphones hanging around his neck. And in his hand was a well wore sack. Probably held his belongings for the trip, the teen mused to himself. 

“Hey, careful there kid,” the man said, dark green eyes wide. “You good?”

The boy nodded, rubbing at the back of his neck nervously. “Um, yeah, sorry,” he stuttered out. He was not ready to meet with anyone who could be on the ship and just wanted to group up with Tommy, to stay away from any of the adults for now. “I was just heading to meet up with my friend. I’m Tubbo!”

The orange clothed man smiled slightly, sticking out his hand for the boy to shake. “The name’s Jordan,” he said, a voice was shouted from behind them, and the two turned to see Tommy, dressed in his red suit, wave at them. “Well, it looks like your friend is waiting for you. See you later, kid.” 

Tubbo nodded, smiling at him, before running to reach his friend; his bag still dragging behind him. 

The other blond was taller than his friend, even if he was younger. Tommy wore a dark green baseball cap over his hair, pushing it down. Sitting on the ground was his bag, and Tubbo could see a red bandana sticking out of the sack. Beside him was his dad, dressed in his dark green suit. Unlike the two teens, Phil would not be going on the ship. Instead was going to stay on earth, promising to call both boys at the end of each 12 hours.

Tommy raised an eyebrow at him, looking over at the retreating figure of Jordan. “Who was that?”

“He said his name was Jordan,” the short boy said, shrugging. He took notice of a change in Phil’s eyes. “What? Did I do something wrong?”

Phil shook his head, frowning. “Far from it actually, you did a good thing,” he told him. Both boys glanced at each other with a confused look. The father chuckled. “Let me explain. That was the captain of the Skeld you just talked with, Captain Jordan Sparklez.”

With wide eyes, Tubbo mouth cracked into a large grin. “You mean  _ the  _ Captain? Like the one from the story?” 

The father nodded, watching as both the boys grew excited. They didn’t know who would be on the ship, and knowing that the famous killer of imposters was there, the two were hyped. 

Tommy quickly hugged his father before grabbing onto Tubbo’s hand, pulling him to where the ship was parked for now. The two were excited for the days to come. 

Waiting for them at the entrance of the Skeld was a woman in a white suit, her eyes wide as she saw the boys coming her way. She wore a plastic egg headband over her dark brown hair, and there was a flower bracelet around her wrist. 

“You two must be the ones the academy sent over,” she said, her voice coming out much higher than either boy excepted, and the woman laughed at them. “I’m Gumi. Come on, I’ll show you to the cabins so you two can get settled before we take off in an hour. We got a meeting around noon today.”

The two followed her down the first hall, and the sound of their footsteps rang throughout the hall. It was a kind of echo Tubbo didn’t think he would ever get used to, as it was deafening. The walls were all grayscale, and the only color that greeted his eyes was the strip of color telling him which way he was heading. And right now the line read the word:  _ Crew Cabins _ .

The hall was filled with doors, and each one was labeled with two names. And near the middle was a door, two names written in both pastel yellow and red. It was Tubbo and Tommy, and the sight made both boys grin. Gumi just laughed and reminded them they needed to be at the meeting after take-off, before heading on her way. 

Inside the room, it wasn’t much. But it was going to be theirs for the next three months. There were two beds and a desk on either side of the room, and a shared closet between the two. Tommy flopped onto the left bed, claiming it as his own, while Tubbo placed his bag onto the bed before sitting himself down. 

“This is the start of our adventure, Tommy,” the shorter boy said, grinning. “This is going to get us so far.”

The taller boy nodded his smile wide. 

The two just talked until their comms buzz. Looking down, they saw an alert; it was time for the meeting. Tubbo didn’t even notice that the ship had taken off, to trance by talking with his best friend. 

With a rush, the two picked up their comms, their hats, and rushed out of the room. The halls were confusing at first, but when Tubbo heard the sound of talking coming from down another hall. Taking his friend’s hand into his own, the boy dragged the blond to the meeting room. 

The room had eight individuals sitting at the middle table, all talking with different people. The Captain was the one to noticed the boys first, motioning for them to come to join him. The two walked over slowly, watching as the people started to slowly noticing the teens.

Jordan stood to his feet when the two were seated. “Everyone, I want you to meet our newest crewmembers; Tubbo Smith and Tommy Sleepy,” he said, placing a hand on each of the boy’s shoulders. “Let’s go around the room and introduce ourselves, shall we? I’ll go first. I’m Captain Jordan Sparklez, captain of the Skeld.”

“I’m Scott,” said the man in a light blue said, waving at them. A pink flamingo sat on his head.

“The names Nate,” a man in a purple suit said. 

The woman in white giggled. “Gumi!”

And the list of people continued until Tubbo was sure he would forget who was who by dinner. And he could tell they knew it, from how wide his eyes were. The captain laughed, patting him on the back before sitting back down. 

“Let’s go over what task each person has to do each day,” he said, pulling out his tablet. Everyone doing the same. “And since these two are known, imma have them stay with either me or Scott. Any problems with that?”

No one spoke, not even Tubbo and Tommy, who had won’t try and stick together, but plans change. And it looks like the two won’t be able to work together and protect each other. Tubbo had a feeling that something was going to happen, just from the odd feeling in his gut. 

As the meeting continued, Tubbo started to wander into his thoughts. 

He tried to recall all the stories he was told of the man beside him. Tubbo could remember his teacher telling the tale of the man who wore headphones, pretending to be listening to music, but in reality, is just waiting for an imposter to show their sharp teeth.

Tubbo thought it won’t be a bad idea to follow around the ship captain for the few months he would be on the spacecraft. And it would give him time to get to know a man he thought of as one of his childhood heroes. Maybe the man could even give him tips on how to spot an imposter. 

But the feeling in his stomach grew some, and he looked up at the dark eyes of the orange wearing man. The look was one he saw only in horror movies he used to watch with Tommy. One that screamed  _ killer _ but Tubbo knew no one would believe him, not even the hot-headed Tommy would. 

Tubbo had a bad feeling about this, and he would find out why.


	7. How to say what in flowers?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy wants to show his brothers how much he cared for them, even if he got in trouble before he could really do anything.  
> His best friend worked at a flower shop, and that means he could help him, right?  
> Tommy wanted to show all of his brothers how much he cared for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have some fluff, you peoples.

Tubbo always thought his grandmother’s shop was pretty cool, besides all the roses that could cut into his hands while handling them.

Ianite’s Flowers and Dyes was a small little shop in the town square. It had a purple and green theme to it, something he had heard his Uncle complaining about to his grandmother almost weekly. The inside was packed full of pretty flowers ranging from roses to sunflowers to lavender. It always smelt lovely whenever his mom would take him to visit his uncle and grandmother.

And when Tubbo had turned 16, his granny had offered the teen a part-time job at the shop. He got to work with the flowers and hang out with his two favorite adults, minus his mom of course.

On a certain say, after a slow day of work, the front door opened with a loud jingle. Tubbo looked up from the Petunias he was watering to see the face of his best friend. The taller teen had choppy blond hair, his bangs falling on to his forehead. Tommy wore a green jacket over his long-sleeved white and red shirt and had ripped jeans, mostly from all the days the two used to play wrestle within their free time. 

The taller boy caught sight of Tubbo, and a lazy grin landed on his face. “Hi Tommy,” said the short boy. “What’s up?”

“Dude, I got a question,” Tommy said, coming to stand over the shorter teen. “How would one say ‘Fuck you’ in flowers?”

That made Tubbo blink before he started giggling. “Why would you need something like that?”

Tommy ran his fingers through his short hair, letting out a huff. “I, um, got in trouble, and now Phil is making me apologize to Wilbur,” he explained, though his blue eyes darted around the room slightly. “And I remembered you and Niki teaching me how to make flower crowns, so I want to make all my brothers crowns. But Wilbur’s is gonna say ‘Fuck you’.”

With that Tubbo broke out in a fit of laughter, having to put down his watering can and hold on to the table the flowers sat on. He was in a fit of laughter that was only stopped by the look his uncle was giving him from over behind the counter. The teen covered his mouth and rubbed away the few tears that had fallen.

Tommy had an uneasy look and Tubbo picked up the watering can. “Let me go see if I can find that book on Flower Language that Granny has somewhere,” he told his friend, still a little giggly. “I will be right back.”

The teen made his way into the back and started to look through the bookshelf for the book in question. He could hear his best friend and uncle talking upfront, but their words were muffled by the sound of the AC. 

His fingers landed on “Flowers and what they mean”, pulling it from the shelf. Tubbo started to flip through the book while heading back to the front. As he came from the backroom, his nose almost buried into the pages. The two quit talking when the teen entered the room, both uncle and friend looking at him. 

“So, um, how many flowers do you want to say ‘Fuck you’?” Tubbo asked, looking up at him, his hand resting on the page he was looking for. “Cause there are many combos that could work for it.”

The tall child looked a little taken back, blinking in thought. “Two,” Tommy told him. 

Tubbo nodded. “What about Orange Lilies and geraniums?” he suggested, heading over to the flowers in question. “Think these will work for you little flower crown plan?”

His blue eyes scanned over the flora, before picking up one of the lilies. “Yeah, these should work, I think.” Tommy placed the flower back carefully. “Now we just need to get about eight more pairs of flowers, for all my brothers.”

“Well, do you two need any help with all this?” Tubbo’s uncle asked, looking between the two friends. When they both shook their heads, the man pulled out a set of red headphones. “Well, imma be over here if you need me.”

“Ok, Uncle Jordan.” Tubbo and Tommy both looked over the book, pointing out the different things you can say with the flowers. 

“We should use roses for Techno,” Tommy said, pointing at it. “Since they look like blood and he’s the fencing ‘Blood god’,” said the taller of the two, laughing at his own little joke. 

He took a look back down at his book. “But Snapdragons mean strong, and Techno is really strong,” Tubbo added, before looking up and glancing around the room. There, in the corner under a lamp was the cone-shaped flower. “And we can use Thistle since it means royalty and he keeps beating Dream at getting king at the dance each year.” 

Jordan looked up from his phone, noticing them staring at the book, he raised a side of his headphone. He could hear them discussing what they should do for the taller of the two’s father. Even he had to think for a second, trying to remember the last father’s day. 

He thought back to a little girl coming in with her mother that day and asked what flower she should give to her dad. If Jordan’s mom hadn’t been there and knew each trick in the book, he would have had to go find the book the boys were using at the moment. 

“Try Daisy and Buttercups?” Jordan asked the two boys, making them jump. Both sets of blue eyes started up at him, making him rub the back of his neck. “Daisy means stability and Phil has always been a stable adult for Tommy, right? And Buttercups are a symbol of childness since your oldest brother is still a little childish at heart.”

Tommy nodded his head. “That could work,” he said, smiling. “Now I just need to, um, you know what? Nevermind.”

The uncle raised an eyebrow at that, as Tubbo grabbed the flowers they needed. “Let me ring these up while you go put that away and grab your granny’s calculator,” Jordan said, taking the flowers when his nephew had reached the counter. “I lost the one up here.”

“Yeah sure.” The short teen then walked into the back room. 

The man turned to the teen who stood taller than himself, and he crossed his arms at him. “So, wanna tell me what your little plan is?” Jordan questioned. 

“I wanna make Tubbo one too,” the teen confessed, tugging slightly on his red sleeves. “He’s like my brother so, and want him to know that. And it's kinda hard trying to tell him, cause it Tubbo.”

With a laugh, Jordan walked over to a nearby shelf, pulling two flower types from the surface. He sat them down on the counter, looking at Tommy with a grin. “Tubbo loves Cosmos since they're so good for bees,” he said, picking up a handful of the autumn-colored flowers. “And  Chrysanthemums are a symbol of friendship. I think these two would be a good combo for him.”

“Thank you, Mr. Sparklez,” Tommy said, as the headphone-wearing mean smiled and got the flowers ready to leave the shop. He gave him his card, so he could. “Please don’t tell Tubbo.”

“Tell Tubbo what?”

Tommy jumped slightly, turning to see his friend coming from the back room. He held the requested calculator in hand, looking up at both men. “Um, nothing,” the blond stuttered out. Jordan gave him back his cards and handed him the bundle of flowers. “I, uh, gonna go make these crowns now. Think you can stop by after dinner?”

When Tubbo nodded, Tommy smiled and took his leave. When the boy tried to ask his uncle what just happened, Jordan just ruffled his hair and went back to his music. 

The rest of the work hours was filled with no more than finishing watering plants and waiting for the few customers who entered the shop. His granny showed up an hour before closing to help the two move the flowers to the back room.

His Uncle Jordan had taken him to go out to eat that night, promising to drop him off at Tommy’s house afterward. The pizza they ate was good, but Tubbo was still wondering what his friend would need him to stop by for. It couldn’t be his homework, he was almost certain that the tall teen had finished it during lunch the day before, stating he wanted to spend his weekend with his computer and Minecraft. 

When his uncle dropped him outside the house around 8, Tubbo was getting a little uneasy. The only time Tommy had ever invited him over after dinner was to either plan a prank or for the shorter boy to a sleepover. 

As he went to open the door, Wilbur opened the door. He wore his normal yellow sweater and had his crown of “Fuck you” flowers on his head. The young adult didn’t even seem to realize what the flowers mean. 

“Come on in, Tubbo,” said the man, opening the door wider. Stepping in, Tubbo could see Phil cleaning in the kitchen, his own crown on his head, and Techno with his crown on the couch. And sitting on the floor of the living room was Tommy, a crown of multiple flowers sat on his head. And it looked like he was making another as Tubbo stood there. 

When Wilbur closed the door, Tommy looked up. His crown fell slightly, but Techno pushed it up some with his foot. “Tubbo!” he smiled, standing to his feet, half down crown in hand. It had white and orange flowers, like a few in Tommy’s. The teen quickly intertwined the last flower before making it whole. “I made you one-two.”

Tubbo looked up at the crown, pushing down his bangs even farther. “But I thought you were only making them for your brothers?”

The friend let out a snort. “But your my brother too, Tubs,” he said, before getting almost tacked into a hug from his short friend. “Can’t let you go without one, ya know.”

Tubbo loved working at his granny’s flower shop. And he loved his best friend. 


	8. Tubbo, Prince of the Bees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boy didn't understand what was happening when the strange men came into his home. He didn't understand how the little bee on his hand was talking with him and he certainly did not expect wings sprouting from his back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was requested by some friends on Discord. Bee child-

Toby has always been told he could never go near the bees in the forest. 

His mother always said that the little yellow and black blips in the air would make him sick if they even touched him. It was the reason his little family had moved from a little wooded area to the main capital of Dreamland. 

Ever since he was little, his parents have been trying to keep him from being the wandering loving boy he always seemed to be. And since he grew up with only his parents for company, Toby was a little started by the loud knock on the front door.

It didn’t help that he had heard his father complaining about how there was “Beast” running through the city. It put him on edge, more so than he wanted to admit. Toby had been sitting at the table, working on some school work. The feeling of the house being shaken made the boy jump, his eyes darting to the door. 

His father ran into the room, his mother not far behind. In his hands was a crossbow, held tightly as he reached the entrance of the home. Toby’s mother sat next to him, holding him close as the door swang open.

Standing on the other side of the door, with fire behind them were the strangest men Toby had ever seen. The tallest of the two had pink hair, tried back into a long braid running down his side. He wore a red cloak over his shoulders, and crown resting over two large, floppy ears. On his chest was a chest plate that had a blueish black tint to it, standing out over his white blouse and black pants. There was a sword strapped to his hip, though Toby only noticed it for a second. 

The second man was much shorter. He had a hat over his head, almost blocking his eyes from the sight of whoever. The hat matched his green shirt, standing out against his dirty blond hair. He had dark green pants, and his shoes were caked in red mud. But the strangest part of the man was the wings. On his back was large wings that almost could be mistaken for a cloak if Toby didn’t notice the feathers.

Winged-man’s eyes cast over the room before they landed on the ten-year-old. His blue eyes widen at the sight of him. “Tubbo…”

“Leave my home at once Beast!” his father shouted, holding the crossbow at the men. “You are not welcomed here.”

The one with pink hair just looked at him, his hand going for his sword. Toby’s breath caught in his throat when the shorter of the two placed his hand on the taller, stopping him in his place. Red eyes stared a hole into his father’s face, and it seemed to shake his father, as his grip on the crossbow started to shake.

“Your right, we are not welcomed here,” said the blond man, his feathers seemed to be ruffling themselves.”We just came for what you stole from us years ago. You know what you did.”

His mother held him tighter, almost in a vice grip. It hurt, and her long nails seemed to dig into his skin. Toby wanted to beg her to let go of him, but his voice seemed to have left him when the men entered his home.

Father glare seemed to have come back, full force this time. “He is our son, and has nothing to do with you, beast,” his voice was dripping venom, and it made Toby flinch from the sound. He hated it when his father was angry; when he shouted and screamed. “Now go.”

“Not without Tubbo.”

His mother laughed. “There is no Tubbo who lives here, only sweet little Toby,” her voice was sickly sweet, and it dripped with something that the boy didn’t quite understand. “Listen to my husband and leave us be. Leave our family alone you foul monsters.”

That was a new one, Toby noted. Even when the beast was talked about earlier that day, they were only called the beasts, and nothing more. It was strange to think these two men could be monsters. Even if they look a little different from how his father or mother looked. 

The man with pink hair took a step forward, his hand away from the sword but not even far from his balled-up fist. “Just give us back our brother, Human,” his voice was deep, almost too deep for the young boy to understand a word. “You took him from us, he isn’t some pet for you to own.”

“Techno, calm down,” the short one said, not moving from his place. His blue eyes went back over to Toby, and he seemed to soften in his hard look. “Look, we have been looking for Tubbo since you took him as a baby. Just let us take our brother home.”

“But he is home,” his mother’s sweet voice said, and he was sure her nails had cut into his skin at this point. Toby could feel a little droplet of blood rolling down his arm. 

It was like something snapped within the man named Techno and he drew his sword, the tip coming to rest right under his father’s chin. He could feel the shock rolling off his mother, it made him nervous.

“He’s coming with us.”

His mother stood to her feet. “Over my dead body, he will.”

“That can be arranged.” 

Before anything drastic could happen, a little bee flew into the room, gone unnoticed by the adults. Toby watched it softly fly over to him, before landing on his free arm. At first, the first ten years of being told to never go near a bee flooded his mind and he had half of the thought to frantically wave his arm around like a fool.

But before he could, a little voice spoke within his mind. And the arguments of the adults faded into the back of his mind.

“Hello little Prince,” the voice said cheerfully. “How are you doing?”

Without thinking he opened his mouth and spoke to the little creature. 

“I’m good, though Mother is holding onto my arm too tight,” he said, blue eyes staring at the bee widely. He began to wonder if the bee would understand him as well as he could understand it. “What are you doing here?”

The bee flew up to be eye level with the boy and as if speaking some magic words, the bee smiled. “Remember who you are, young prince.” 

His back started to ache, and he wanted to reach back the stretch at it. But his mother’s grip on his arm prevented him from moving. Toby felt something flutter against his back, tickling him, and then the sound of his green shirt starting to tear. 

It hurt. Why did it hurt?

His mother pulled her arm away, watching with horror, her bloodied hands clamped over her mouth. She watched, not helping her son as the pain of something moved on his back. But someone did move to help him, as tears rolled down his face. Two strong hands landed on the boy’s shoulders, causing him to look up. 

Toby water-filled eyes meet the eyes of the man with wings, and his mouth moved but it was like he was too far away for the boy to hear. He started to gently rub a small circle with his hand. It was calming, almost like this was suppose to happen. 

The pain resided not long after, tears slowly dripping from his face. Soon, the sound of the man’s voice reached his ears, and it made more tears fall down.

“Hey, just breathe alright? I’m not going to hurt you, Toby,” he said, smiling gently. The man had a calm air around him, like a warm blanket on a winter evening or getting to play in the grassy fields nearby. Just calm. “I promise, this is nothing to be scared about. It normal, your wings are perfectly normal.”

Wings? 

Toby looked over his shoulder, wincing in slight pain before his eyes landed on what he thought were his new wings. They were tinted white but were see-through, and they were very round, almost circular in shape. They moved with his breathing, and it slightly scared him. 

His breath caught in his throat when he saw the murderous glaze his mother had. And if the look could kill, the ten-year-old would have died ten times over. He heard the sound of something falling to the ground. 

Looking over at the noise, he saw his father had fallen to his knees, the crossbow halfway across the room. “We tried so hard to make you into a normal boy,” his words were quiet, but Toby could hear them crystal clear as if he was standing inches from the man. It felt like a cut, his words cutting into his heart. “Then you had to go and ruin everything. You’re not the boy we raised, you are not our son.”

Before the man could say anything else that would hurt Toby, a blue-tinted sword came crashing down as against the side of his father’s head. It was the flat of the blade, so no actual hard had come to the man, but it made the boy feel a little better at his knocked out form. 

His mother rushed over to her husband, more worried for him than the child she raised.

“Toby,” the winged man said, causing the boy to turn to him. “Would you like to come back home with us? I promise that we won’t hurt you, or do anything as these humans did to you.”

He took one last look at his parents before nodded, taking the hand of the winged man. The two stood, and the pink-haired man met them at the door, his sword hidden back under his cloak. He had a slight smile on his face, thought Toby could tell it was a happy smile. 

As the trio walked down the street, heading for the forest, the winged man introduced themselves. “I’m Phil, and this is our brother Techno,” he said, smiling down at the winged boy. “We have been looking for you for a long time, little bug. Since the day those peoples took you from us.”

Toby never was allowed near the forest or the bee’s but since the day his brothers came to find him, he was allowed to explore and travel the trees with practiced easy and went by a new name under the canopy of trees. 

He was Tubbo, prince of the Bees. and he would stay that way until his dying days.


	9. Brotherly Ghost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their little family had not been the same since the accident.  
> Phil had fallen into depression.  
> Techno seemed to be the one in charge of the house.  
> Wilbur looks to have lost it.  
> And Tommy is trying to figure out what happened all those years ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw// mentions of death, blood, and reckless driving. 
> 
> enjoy yall!

Wilbur hasn’t been the same since the crash.

He wanted to remember what all happened, but it was like a gap of time was nowhere to be seen. Tommy wanted to remember, to figure out what happened to make his brother act so weird. 

It was like someone had removed a memory from his mind. Repression, his doctor told him after they got to the hospital. It means you want to forget what something that had happened to you, usually traumatic stuff that happens to you. 

But he remembered the crash, and he remembers seeing the horrified look on his older brother’s face as the car seemed to float in mid-air. Time stopped as the air around him shifted, and crashed down around him quickly. Tommy could remember his head slamming into the window and the world flickering black, before waking up to the worried faces of paramedics standing over him, still seated in the passenger seat.

He could see the flashing lights, a blur really, flashes behind them. And the ringing in his ears blocked out whatever sound the medics tried to tell him. It was like his alarm that just would not stop ring and ringing and ringing. It was maddening really.

As the medics pulled him from the car, he saw a bloody hand resting in the middle of the vehicle. If he wasn’t so out of it, he would have emptied his stomach at the sight. As he was placed onto a stretcher, he saw another medic pulling a bloodied figure from the destroyed car. 

Tommy blacked out again.

He woke up in the hospital, his leg in a cast, and prompted up with a sling. Techno sat in the corner of the room, reading a book. He looked tried, from the bags under his eyes, and how ruffed his dyed pink hair was. His red variety jacket was hanging on the back of the car. 

“Tech?” 

The pink-haired man looked up, his pale blue eyes had little red circles around them, a sign of his tiredness. The sixteen-year-old looked like he rather is asleep than up reading, though Tommy figured he would read his book any chance he got. 

Techno ruffled the bandaged up seven-year-old blond hair. “Hey, little bro,” said the teen. “How are you feeling?”

“Like Wilbur had hit me with his guitar,” the boy confessed. “What happened?”

His older brother let out a sigh. “Your babysitter flipped her car with you and our brothers inside,” Techno told him, noticing the way his eyes widen. “What?”

“I thought we only have Wilbur for a brother,” his sore voice whispering out. “What do you mean by your brothers?”

The teen didn’t have any words to express what shock ran through his body. His brother didn’t remember his own brother. This wasn’t good.

“You don’t remember Tubbo?”

“Who’s that?”

Doctors told the family it was caused by the trauma, though not as server as Wilbur suddenly hearing voices. And not ones that made any sense. Techno seemed to be dealing with all this the most out of the brothers, the only one who seemed to remember their brother or had any real thoughts that made sense. 

Their father seemed to be taking it just as hard as his oldest, what with the loss of his son. Phil became very protective of his two wounded sons, not letting either out of his sight when he got them both back to their home. He even requested from his work for a few months of stay at ho to help settle his kids back home.

Techno spent a few nights trying to help calm down his father from his own nightmares, trying to help when Wilbur asked him if he heard the voices too. The pink-haired teen got a little behind in his classes, and his school understood what he was going through, giving him some leeway. 

Tommy was the least affected by everything, minus not being able to walk around without his crutches. He hadn’t hurt the name of the other boy who died in the crash since the day he woke up in the hospital. At the memory of the name, it made his head hurt. 

Why couldn’t he remember who Tubbo was? 

Before he knew it, he started to see the form of a boy who followed him around, bright blue eyes staring at him. Sometimes the boy would speck and the two would talk as if nothing was wrong. If Wilbur ever walked into the room, which happened more than once, he would start pulling on his hair by the time he heard two voices.

As the years went on, things got a little worse for the Sleepy family. Wilbur seemed to have finally lost it by the time he was 16, and Phil had to get him admitted into a hospital where those more able to take care of his child. He didn’t want to, his son just not all there anymore. 

Tommy started to act out more, more so than the normal 9-year-old should, and Techno was always there to catch him when he fell. It didn’t help that in the middle of the night, as the youngest of the boys grew taller and older, the pink-haired man could him talking with himself; a conversation that would last all night if he didn’t hear the voice tell him to sleep. 

“Tommy, who do you talk with at night?” he would ask, somedays when the two had the house to themselves for the day. This certain day was a Saturday morning, their father had gone to go see Wilbur. “I know you don’t talk with many of your friends.”

The now 15 teen year old shrugged. “Just a ghost, I guess,” Tommy told him. And Techno let him be, still trying to figure out his little brother.

“You should really tell him, Tommy,” said the transparent figure, floating slightly above the bed. He stared up at him with wide blue eyes. “I bet they would believe Wilbur if you do.”

Tommy flopped down onto his bed, his arm laying over his eyes. “They would think I’m crazy then Tubbo.” his voice was quiet. “And you saw how Wilbur been acting before he got put in Saint Marthas, dude. He can hear you and us talking made him think he was crazy. Dad is already depressed as it is, I don’t want to give him another reason to get any sadder.”

The transparent boy sighed, before floating his way over to the teen. “There has to be some way to get them to believe us,” Tubbo said, just hovering in the air. Then it was like a light bulb went off in the dead eyes. “Oh! I know, we can do the possession thing again. Then Dad will have to believe us, right?”

“But you remember what happened the last time we tried doing that,” said the blond, lifting his arm from his eyes. Tried blue eyes meet the dead ones of his brother. “I had a massive headache afterward and you were flickering out of sight for a week. It took you so long to get enough energy to even speak to me anymore.”

But in the end, the two agreed the possession of Tommy would be their own hope to make their family see that Wilbur had not lost it, and could maybe give some hope to their depressed father. All it is gonna take is a little ghostly possession. 

The day they chose to do their little plan, Phil was home and Techno didn’t have any college that day.

Tommy gathered the two other residents of the house in the living room, with his ghostly brother hanging out near the roof. It was the first time in a while that the dead child got to see what his father looked like, not really having seen him over the last few years. 

“Dad, Tech there is something I need to tell you, and you gotta promise not to think I’m gone mental, ok?” the two adults shared a hesitant look before nodding, having their full attention on the teen. “I remember who Tubbo is. And his ghost has been following me around since I was 7.

The faded pink-haired man was the one to speak first, as their father was sitting in otter shock. “Tommy, what on earth are you going on about?” his voice sounded a little higher than normal. “I thought you couldn’t remember him?”

Casting his eyes above him, Tubbo took a non-existing breath before diving into his living brother. Tommy’s bright blue eyes flickered a darker blue, before only one eye was bright blue and the other was almost otherworldly. And the voice that came from the young teen made Phil almost let out a sob.

“Hi, Dad,” it was like a mix of Tommy’s and one that the father had not heard in years. “Um, it’s Tubbo. Now, do you believe us?”

The father stood to his feet, coming to stand right in front of his son, his hands landed on his shoulders. Tears filled the man’s pale eyes, as he looked at Tommy. It was like trying to find the last piece in the puzzle he needed. And before the two boys knew it, their dad hugged them close, sobbing into the teen’s shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry,” his voice was muffled but he could still be heard from his shoulder. “I should have never left you and your brothers with that babysitter, I should have stayed at home with you boys.”

Arms wrapped around the father’s shoulders, holding him close as he cried. Techno joined in on the hug, and they soon became a pile of tears on the living room floor. Before long, the two different souls had to be separated, and the ghost boy floated out of the body. In doing so, Tommy almost instantly falls asleep on Techno's shoulder, but not before he could get a few words out, looking at the adults with sleepy blue eyes.

“See, Wilbur isn’t crazy.”


	10. Becoming a Father (Platonic Soulmate Au)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil never really thought much about soulmate marks, thinking they are not that important to the people who enter his life.  
> That all changes with a little piglet boy...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some slight fluff for your souls

The morning sun glared into Phil's eyes, waking him up. With a groan, he threw his blanket over his head, trying to block out the light. When the fabric was pulled off his feet, the man sat up with a sigh. 

Light streamed into his room, casting a glow throughout the room. He let out a sighed before standing to his feet, running a hand through his blond hair. He takes a look in his mirror, seeing how bad his bed head was. But a mark the fell slightly off his shoulder caught his attention. 

Phil turned slightly and looked over at the mirror. It was words writing in pink, running down to his shoulder blade. 

“ I like potatoes .”

He blinked at it. Did he get drunk and get a tattoo or something? When he tried to rub off the mark, it stung a little, like getting hit with a ruler on the wrist. 

Giving up, Phil dug a shirt out of his drawer, before slipping on the green kimono shirt. And headed to the bathroom. 

While doing his morning routine, his mind went back to the words on his shoulder. There was no way he had been that drunk, and the letters don't even look that bad, so it had to have either just got there by magic or he had not noticed it when he actually got drunk last. 

His breakfast was a slice of bread and an apple since he didn’t want much to tot around for awhile walking around the forest that morning. Phil shoved on his feet into his boots and placed his bucket hat over his hair, thoughts of the mark forgotten for now. He strapped his sword onto his hip before heading for the door.

Exiting his house, he was greeted with the sight of his neighbors getting ready for the day. He spotted a few getting their market stalls, and he saw two of the villagers heading out to the wheat fields. 

“Hey Phil!” one lady called out, waving at him from across the street. Two little kids ran around her, making her dress go a little crazy. She laughed. “See you later, sir.” 

Phil smiled and waved back at her as he made his way outside the village. It was a nice summer day, so Phil was glad he had decided to forgo his jacket. He could hear the sound of children playing, and teenagers talking about this and that. The man always wondered what it would be like to be a father, to have kids of his own one day.

But that was a thought for another day, he mused. 

Most of his day was just him walking around the outskirts of the village, but a sound not far into the tree line caught his attention. The sound of an animal made him tense. Phil drew his sword, and with a quick look back at the village, he made his way into the flora. 

The woods were the definition of deafening. Trees that stood taller than anything that was in the village. It made him feel small, in an odd way. He could hear the sound of wild animals making filled his ears before he saw what he was looking for. 

In a clearing, at the base of a still smoking, broken neither portal, was a lump covered in red cloth. Phil took a step forward, hoping to see what the fabric covered. But when he stepped on a twig, the lump moved. Ahead of pink hair popped out of the lump, and a cry came from it. He dropped his sword onto the ground, and quickly make it to the bundle. 

Wrapped up in the fabric, was a small toddler. The child had neon pink hair, their skin a peachy pink shade, and two little tusks stuck out from their mouth. The boy has shaggy, long hair that reaches the bottom of their ears. He wore a raggy white shirt and the red cloth surround the kid was torn in many places. 

He watched as the kid sat up, staring at the man with wide red eyes. “Kid where are your parents?” Phil asked, being wary of the child. He took a guess and said that the kid was from the neither if that portal is any indicator. When he didn’t answer, Phil sighed and crouched down to their level. “Can you tell me how you got here?”

The child shifted slightly, bring the red fabric closer around himselves. He shrugged, looking slightly over at the portal. 

Phil sighed. “Well, since I can’t leave you out here by yourself and it looks like your only way home is kinda destroyed,” he said, smiling slightly. “Why don’t you come home with me?”

The boy looked a little shocked at his question and looked uneasy. But it seemed like he had a minute to think before he nodded. Phil smiled and stood to his feet, and reached a hand down to help the boy to his feet. 

On the way out of the clearing, Phil picked up his sword and sheath it back into its place. The boy still had his red fabric blanket around his shoulders, holding it close. The bucket hat-wearing man felt the need to get a needle and thread and sew up all the little tears, to make it whole. Maybe there was a reason he found the boy and no anyone else.

However, all his happy little thoughts left when they reached the village, and they all saw who was with him. 

The woman from before had grabbed her two children and hurried them inside their house, as sounds of confusion coming from them. A few of the other women screamed, and he felt the boy grab onto the bottom of his shirt, and Phil could understand why. Even he felt the need to grab the boy and hide. 

One of the men came up to him, halfway to his house, so close to getting the boy somewhere safe. The man looked angry and ready to attack them, from the way his grip tighten around the sword. Phil wanted to use his own sword to protect this kid. 

“Phil, what on earth do you think your doing?” 

“Taking this kid home.”

“That is no kid.”

The hat-wearing man glared. “He is just a much a kid, and much as your children are, Trevor,” Phil hissed out, feeling the kid's hands tighten around his shirt even harder. He let his instincts take over and he picked up the small boy, holding him close. “And I'm taking him home now.”

Trevor glared. “We do not want a  _ monster _ ,” he grounded out, taking a step forward with his sword raised slightly, “In our village, Philza. Get him out or we will deal with him ourselves.”

“If he can’t stay here with me, then I’m gone,” Phil said, loud enough for those around him to hear. “Find yourselves a new protector, because I'm leaving.”

Before anyone could say a single word, Phil made his way with the boy to his house. He locked his door and sat the boy down on his couch. The boy watched as the man quickly ran around his home, filling weird boxes with items and food. It was kind of weird seeing this man, who just stood up for him and it made him feel a little warm in his chest. Which confuses him. 

The man stopped for a minute and came to kneel at his level in front of him. “I never did catch your name,” he said, before reaching out his hand. “I’m Phil, it's nice to meet you.”

The boy stared at it before shaking it. He didn’t give a name or even make a sound, not that Phil was complaining. He stood to his feet and thought for a second. “You hungry? Like any food?”

The boy tilted his head, and the words he didn’t think he would hear was spoken. “ I like potatoes .”

Phil froze in his steps, and his shoulder stun for a second. Brushing it off, he picked out a few potatoes from a sack and put them in his smoker. He watched the boy as he looked around the house, at all the boxes that have popped up since arriving here. 

“I’m Techno,” the toddler spoke up, shaking Phil from his thoughts. The red eyes stared at him. “You asked.”

“I did, your right,” the man agreed to nod his head. The light of the smoker cut off, telling him the food was cooked. He gathered the potatoes and gave them to the toddler, who proceeded to start eating them like an apple. 

Just as he as finishing up packing his belonging, Phil heard a snore coming from his living room. Taking a glance into the room, Phil saw the boy had fallen asleep on the pillows of the couch, hugging the red blanket closed to himself. It made the man smile. 

After shrinking the boxes down to fix in his pocket with a rune he found laying around his room and shoving them all into his backpack, Phil throws on his trench coat and picked up his bag. Gently picking up Techno, the man left the place he had called home for the last ten few years. The sky had turned dark, and the sun was setting. 

As the light faded out of the word, Phil wondered what he had gotten into. With taking care of this boy, Phil had to take up his belongings and leave the village he called his home. But, just the thought of letting anyone hurt Techno made him angry. His actions weren’t out of angry, no, it was out of the way this little kid had looked up at him. 

He could rebuild somewhere else, he was sure. Phil knew that even if they had to travel far and wide, they would find somewhere the two of them could stay. 


	11. Hanahaki Disease

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Witches were known for trying to kill their victims, and this didn't seem much different. when two best friends start throwing up blood and petals, people begin to worry.  
> And only time will tell how much worse the two would become.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw// blood, throwing up.  
> THIS IS NOT SHIPPING!  
> It's a plaontic flower disease I swear.
> 
> And yes, imma Strawberry Cupcakehead.
> 
> ENJOY!

Tubbo thought he could never look at flowers quite the same again. 

The world views flowers as a beautiful thing. A little creation that needed to be held with gentle hands. Their petals full of color and smelled wonderful. He never knew flowers of all things could be the center of his pain. 

He couldn’t quite remember who this all started, but Tubbo could remember coming back from a camping trip with Tommy.

All that came to mind about that day was the sound of glass breaking and waking up at sunset in the middle of the forest. It was a weird day, to say the least, and the two friends were even more confused the following days back in their respective homes and jobs. 

Since the two had to be separated most of the week, it was like a weight had been placed on their chests after the first day back from the trip. The two started to get sick not long after. 

Quackity was the one to find Tubbo throwing up the night after he got back, noticing the blood laced petals that came from his mouth. At first, he was startled, before rushing to help the teen to the bathroom. A trail of petals following after them.

It took a good long while for the teen to stop barfing up his gut into the porcelain bowl. The beanie-wearing man had the boy sit against the tub, close enough to the toilet in case it started again.

“Tubbo, do you want to tell me what is going on?”

Tried blue eyes looked up at him, a tiny little trickle of blood falling from his mouth. Quackity noted that his pale green sleeping shirt had a few dried petals on it, marking the event that happened not long ago. 

Wiping at his mouth, Tubbo shrugged. “I don’t know,” his voice sounded ruff from all the throwing up he had been doing. “I think a witch may have poisoned me and Tommy earlier. I can’t remember.” 

This concerned the young adult, as he knew the two best friends had gone off on their own for the weekend. Who knew what kind of poison the witch had used? It could be a rare potion with no cure for all they knew. 

Quackity was sure to help the teen back into his bed before heading to find something that could help. And he had a feeling he would need to go find a little fox.

In the ravine of Pogtopia, Techno was woken up by the sound of sobbing. It confused him slightly, putting him on edge. Did someone find the ravine?

The pink-haired man grabbed his sword, quietly moving from out of his room. Following the sound was much easier when he saw the light that came from his little brother’s room. Maybe he had a nightmare or was having a panic attack. 

Opening the door, trying to stay silent as he looked into the room. Tommy wasn’t on his bed, where Techno thought he might be. Instead, laying on the floor, in a pool of blood and flowers, was his little brother. The teen was sobbing out, the liquid still draining from his mouth.

Not caring about his clothes, the man hurried to his brother’s side. “Tommy, what happened?” his voice tried to get out, but only was able to get out; “Tommy?”

The boy didn’t say anything, just sobbing on the floor. Techno picked up his brother, holding him close as he got them back onto the bed. He gently rocked him, trying to calm the boy down. 

“It hurts Tech,” the boy sobbed out, his face pressed into his older brother’s shoulder. “Make it stop, please!” 

But all the man could do was hold him tighter, letting him throw up more blood onto the stone floor. Techno wanted to cry for his brother, to help somehow, but he wasn’t their dad. He didn’t know crap about taking care of teens who were barfing up the blood. And petal! Where on earth did those petals even come from.

He started to hum a soft tune, trying to lul the boy back to sleep. Maybe while the boy slumber, Techno could figure out what to do. It seemed like it was starting to work, what with the boy’s cries starting to stop. 

When Tommy was fast asleep, Techno laid him down into his bed, covering him up and tucking him into bed. He looked peaceful for the first time in so long, and it sent a spark of regret in his chest. The pink-haired man sighed and gripped his hand into a fist. 

He needed to go find out what was wrong with his little brother, and quickly. 

It wasn’t until the day of the festival that both Techno and Quackity got their answers. 

Tubbo and Tommy and spent the week trying to plan on how to stop Wilbur together, and neither of them realized their sickness seemed to have disappeared. For now. And with quackity trying not to let Schlatt know that something was wrong with the teen, and Techno looking for answers, no one seemed to remember they had a crazy Wilbur to deal with. Besides the two sixteen-year-olds. 

Standing on the podium, looking out at the citizens of the country he was forced to be a part of, Tubbo started to feel a tickle in the back of his throat and his gag reflects seemed to be taking over. He had to fight it just to stay upright. 

When it was time for his speech, the teen took a deep breath before heading over to the mic. And he looked at each person who looked up at him, each person that lived in the country and helped it be as it was today. 

His speech was long but short in the fact that he began coughing midway through. Tubbo doubled over, holding his middle as tears fell as he coughed. Quackity brought him off stage, not paying attention to the odd look the president gave them. 

In the crowed, Niki could hear someone else starting to cough, Taking a quick lookup, she saw Tommy, almost falling off the roof from his hacking. Wilbur stood next to him, just giving that dead stare of his at his youngest brother. Her head snapped back to the stage when Tubbo fell the rest of the way down the stairs, ending up knocked out. A pool of blood starting to form around his mouth.

The woman wanted to rush to the boy, but Technoblade bet her to it. 

She watched as Techno helped Quackity gather Tubbo in his arms, before glancing up at the roof where Niki knew that Tommy was still coughing. The crowd was silent as they watched Technoblade walk away with Quackity, Tubbo held tightly in beanie-wearing man’s arms. 

A gasp ran through the crowd and Niki looked over to the sound, and in came a stumbling Tommy, holding onto his middle. He made his way over to Fundy, who had to stop the teen from falling over. The fox hybrid took one good look at him before throwing his arm over his shoulder, to get Tommy away from the eyes of everyone. 

The hybrid followed after the retreating forms of the blood god and vice president.

When Fundy caught up with them, Techno leads to Tubbo’s base. He let the two men lay the teens down on the beds that were there, rushing around to see if the boy had any healing potions that played around somewhere. 

“What on earth is going on?” Fundy asked when the pink-haired man came back with a potion brewing stand. The dark brown eyes of the hybrid darted around at the two men before landing on the teens. Tommy was holding onto Tubbo’s hand, trying to stay awake. “What is going on you guys?”

The vice president spoke up. “Last week I found Tubbo throwing up blood and petals,” Quackity spoke up, glancing down worriedly at the boy in question. “I tried to keep Schlatt from finding out about it since I knew he would try and get rid of him. He’s just a kid, I don’t want him to be killed just for being sick.”

Techno nodded, as he sat in front of the steaming brewing stand. “I found Tommy in the same way when they got back from their camping trip,” he told the two. They stared at the two bottles as they slowly started to change color. “He wouldn’t tell me what was going on, and I just wanted to make sure he was alright. I can’t lose another brother to pain again.”

Fundy looked between the two before a light blubs seemed to flicker in his mind. “I think I know what’s going on!” he said, making the two look up at him. “I will be right back.”

The beanie-wearing man watched as Fundy ran deeper into Tubbo’s base, and the sound of stuff being moved around reached his ears. 

Before long the fox came back, a book in his hand, and was flipping through it quickly. “There’s only one thing that I can think of that matches what you two been telling me,” he said, stopping on a page and turning the book so the other two men could look at it. There was a picture of a blood-red flower, like the ones that have fallen from the two teen’s mouths. “It’s called Hanahaki Disease. It was said to be a disease that happens when the one you love does not return your feelings and then you slowly die while watching them live on. I heard that it isn’t real though, so this is strange.”

“Tubbo told me that he remembered a witch poisoning Tommy and him,” Quackity said, as he watches Techno give the two potions to the boys. “Is there a potion that could make this happen to them?”

With a quick look down at his book, the hybrid nodded. “There is a potion for it, yes,” Fundy breath out, his eyes wide. “And it looks like that witch spent a lot of time on it. It talks five weeks to brew it.”

“Is there a cure?” Techno asked, putting the now empty bottles away. “How long will it take for us to brew it?”

“There is no cure.”

“Then how are we suppose to help them?” 

“Keep them together, and don’t let anyone separate them,” Fundy told him, closing the book. “I will try and make a cure, though I don’t know how long it will take. And I have a feeling the farther these two are from each other, the worse they get.”

And as the day came to a close, the three watched the two boys hold each other’s hand. It made Techno wish he could take his brother’s pain away, to hold onto it for him. He wishes he could do it for both teens. And he would make sure they didn’t have to deal with much pain soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know, this is my own spin on the normal trope, and decided the farther away someone is from their loved one, the harder it is for them to not be sick.  
> Witches are mean, just gonna say that.


	12. Flu and Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The flu is a nasty thing, and it certainly knows how to make someone's day miserable.   
> Tubbo was one of the many victims of the flu, and it was up to his new mix-matched group he liked to call family to help him out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kept thinking about how I acted last time I was sick with the flu last February, and how I gave it to everyone in my school because I didn't realize I was sick. I just felt tired and had a headache. it wasn't until I got home that my parents realize I was sick.   
> So pushing this onto our favorite child, let's get rolling, shall we?   
> Family time here we come.  
> Enjoy!

(Author Note: I kept thinking about how I acted last time I was sick with the flu last February, and how I gave it to everyone in my school because I didn't realize I was sick. I just felt tired and had a headache. it wasn't until I got home that my parents realize I was sick.

So pushing this onto our favorite child, let's get rolling, shall we?  
Family time here we come.  
Enjoy!)

The flu was spearing fast between the people of Manburg, and Tubbo was not immune to the illness.

He woke up feeling like trash that day. The sun felt too warm, and the air felt to damp to be air. It was the rainy weather, he realized, but that didn’t help the feeling of his head hurting. It was like someone had thrown a brick at his head.

Rolling out of bed, the boy stood to his feet. As soon as he stood up straight, his vision went blurry and the world seemed to turn on its axes. He flopped back into his bed, holding his head with closed eyes.

“What on earth…,” he spoke softly, coughing at the how his throat hurt from the action. Maybe he needed to drink some water or something. His body felt like someone had tied weights to his arms and legs.

Trying to stand again, the boy was able to stay up this time.

Tubbo quickly did his morning routine, only stopping every once and a while to hold onto a nearby surface. His dizziness continues as the morning went on, and it seemed to get worse when lunchtime rolled around.

He stumbled into the business room where the cabinet of President J. Schlatt both held meetings and gathered around to eat their lunch. Only Quackity and Schlatt were there that day, what with George still MIA.

The horned man was eating a salad at the head of the table, raised an eyebrow at the teen. “What is up with you?”

“Nothin,” the boy slurred out, flopping into the chair on the president’s left. “Just tried.”

Quackity looked up from his hamburger. “You don’t sound good Tubs,” he noted while sharing a look with Schlatt. “Did you get enough sleep last night?”

The teen nodded, prompting his head on his closed fist, before picking at the bowl of cut fruit in front of him. The two adults did not look convinced but didn’t comment any further. Deciding to let the boy be if he said he was ok.

That thought went right out the window when the two found Tubbo passed out on the Prime Path, wrapped up in a small ball. At the sight of the small teen, Schlatt almost had a panic attract just from seeing him like that.

“Quackity, do you mind going ahead and getting some healing potions from back at the white house?” the man said, as he gently picked up the small boy. He felt so light, a little to light if you asked Schlatt. And he was burning up. “Imma going to bring Tubbo back to his room and see if I can get his fever down.”

Tubbo curled up a little in his arms, and almost acted like a little cat as he snuggled up into the older man.

The Vice nodded, before running off, his hand on his beanie to keep it in place. As Schlatt started to head in the direction of the place the three of them lived, he started to wonder why Tubbo didn’t tell him or Quackity that he wasn’t feeling that well. They all knew that the teen had a lot on his shoulders, what with him being the Secretary of State, and trying to hold onto his friendship with Tommy.

Even the goat-man himself knew that both of these kids don’t need any of this adult stuff. His kid didn’t need to go through all of this.

His kid? The thought made Schlatt almost trip over his own feet. Where on earth did that even come from, he wanted to scream at himself. But the time for mentally berating himself could be done another time. Right now it was time to take care of Tubbo.

When he had gotten them back to their home, Schlatt headed straight for the teen’s room.

The room was tidy and didn’t really have many things besides the bed, desk, and dresser. Not even any knickknacks, the man mused. He gently placed Tubbo onto his bed, the teen seemed to recoil from the lack of body head the man gave off. The sleepy boy grabbed onto the only thing that seemed to hold any value to the teen; a stuffed bee that Eret and Niki had given him for his last birthday.

If Schlatt wasn’t so worried at the moment, he would probably go to find a camera to show the sunglass-wearing man and the baker. But for now, he needed to take care of Tubbo. He covered the boy up in his pale green blanket and sheets, making sure not to wake him.

He went to the kitchen, to quickly grab a bowl of cool water and a dishrag. It what he used to do when Wilbur was sick, and what the man would do for him when he was not feeling well.

Getting his fever was not an easy task, and it didn’t seem to go down any until after Quackity got back with a box full of healing potions. He tried to get the teen to wake up just enough for him to take the potion, but each time he tried, the boy would refuse. After a while, the two men were able to get Tubbo to swallow down one of the pink bottles.

At least it would help somewhat.

Schlatt was tried after the almost three-hour fight he had with Tubbo to get him to drink the healing potion, and both the President and the Vice knew that all other plans for the day would be forgotten in favor of the teen. They needed to make sure that he would be alright before they could take a break.

Right when the Vice semed to be nodding off, there was a soft knock on the door.

“Come in?” Schlatt spoke up, raising an eyebrow.

The face of Niki sticking her head into the room, Eret looking over her shoulder. The two looked worried. The sunglass-wearing man had left his crown back home it seemed, and his glasses sat on his nose, showing off his glowing white eyes. Niki didn’t look much better, what with the cake batter that stuck in her hair and the flour that was mered across her cheek.

In Niki’s hands was a basket with little cakes and loaves of bread. “We heard that Tubbo wasn’t feeling that well,” she whispered out, sleeping as the teen in question was asleep. “I made some bread and cake for you guys. Eret just tagged along, saying he wanted to check in on the kid.”

At the words of the new people, Tubbo let out a groan, rolling over. The rag that once laid on his forehead now laid on the wooden floor and the blue eyes of the teen stared up them sleepily.

“What’s up, guys?”

“Oh you know, just worrying over you, nothing to worry about,” Quackity said, his beanie forgotten as he ran his fingers through his dark hair. “Why didn’t you tell us you weren’t feeling good Tubs? You scared us, man.”

Tubbo sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “I didn’t wanna scare yall,” he muttered, eyes downcast. “I thought yall might think I was joking or something.”

“We would never think that,” Schlatt said, wrapping his arm around the small teen, holding him close. “We care about you, alright? Even if you don’t feel comfortable talking about something like this or anything, just come to me, Quackity, Niki, or Eret, ok? But only if you want to.”

Niki sat at the end of the bed, her basket of food in Eret’s hands. “We care about you, Tubbo,” her voice seemed a little lighter than before. “We want to help when we can, and if you want to let us help you.”

With a tried smile, Tubbo pulled the woman into a hug, along with Schlatt. He might be sick and might feel like his head was going to explode, and his throat felt like sandpaper. But he was glad that these adults cared for him. Before he knew it, Eret and Quackity joined their little pile. Before he knew it, sleep took him once more.

The following week, Tubbo was surrounded by people who cared for him.

Quackity would stay with him and the two would butcher songs that came to mind, singing their hearts out, even if their throats began to ache. And Quackity brought him his own beanie, which almost covered the teen’s shaggy blond hair. The man fell into a fit of laughter when Tubbo had to push up the hat that fell into his eyes.

With Eret, the two would do some crafts. They made their own paper crowns, coloring them random colors. Planes, flowers, and origami, all made from colored paper now hung from the rood of his room. It was starting to finally feel like a room to the teen, maybe a home if he had to put it that way.

In the kitchen of the house, Niki would invite him to join her in making treats for everyone, and each time was an utter mess. They made cookies one day and there was dough everywhere, so much so that the counter was caked in the stuff. It took the two an hour just to clean it up, but it was fun just getting to have fun together.

Someone, most likely Niki, had told Tommy about him being sick. The taller teen had sneaked into his room at one point in the week, coming in during cloak of the night. He brought along his disc and a portable jukebox, and the two talked and laughed the night away. It wasn’t until the sun began to raise that Tommy had to leave, but only going after he promised to come back soon.

And Schlatt was the one to make sure he took his healing potion each day, reminding him that he should rest. The man even took Tubbo’s workload on, saying the teen need not worry about a thing.

What was funny to Tubbo was that by the time he started to feel better, the others began to get sick. It made him laugh as the four adults all were gathered in the living room, all trying no to fall asleep as the teen tried to help them all get better.

At least with this family, Tubbo knew that even if they had to go somewhere else, they could stay a family through it all.


	13. Little Songbird (planotic soulmate au part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been five years and a new line of words has appeared onto Phil's skin. this time, written in yellow. And Techno gets to have a brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got the motivation to write the second part of this, and I still have a third that needs to be written, but I have another one-shot to write for some friends on a discord server of mine. lookout for that-
> 
> next in line is the Tommy part, I hope-

It was almost five years before the next mark showed up on his body.

It was a nice morning, the sun was rasing over the wooden cabin in the woods, and Phil woke up to a small hand shaking him awake. 

Standing beside his bed, wrapped up in his red wool blanket, was his son. His pink hair was long and tied back in a low ponytail. His tusk stuck out from his lower lip, and his skin was a faded pink tan. The boy looked tired but seemed to be excited.

“Dad, you said we can start the potato farm today,” the boy said, shaking his father even more. His voice was much deeper than one would think of a child his height. “Come on!”

The man let out a sleepy laugh, before throwing off his dark green blanket, sitting himself up. He ran his hands through his shaggy blond hair before getting pulled out of his room by the child. Their home was small, and they like it like that. 

It had only a few rooms; the two residents’ bedrooms, the bathroom, and the combined living room and kitchen. And sitting on the table was a sack of potatoes. 

Phil let out a laugh once again, before heading to the pantry. “Let’s eat some breakfast and then we can get started, ok?” As he went to slice the loaf of bread that laid on the counter. He heard a light gasp come from his son, and he glanced over at him. “Techno, what’s wrong?”

The pink-haired boy was pointing at his leg and with a raised eyebrow, the father glanced down. And Phil had to take a double-take because there was a line of script on his leg. 

It was written in a bright yellow, and said; “ Family is important, sir. ” 

“Well, that wasn’t there last night,” he mused out, trying to twist a little more to look at it better. The writing was almost unreadable, but the man understood it. Another mark. Another person would walk into his life and brighten up his life even more and that made him smile slightly. He turned to face his son. “Seems like someone is going to be joining our little family.”

He watched as Techno started to rub at his forearm, where his mark laid. “ Let's go home .”

There was now a line of yellow text on his other arm, standing out against his pink skin. 

" Music is better than potatoes. " 

The boy shifted in the wood chair he sat in. “But what if they take all your attention?" 

"Techno, even if this person is a toddler when we meet them, I promise I'm still going to be here for you," he told the eight-year-old kneeling down to his height. "I'm not going to forget about you. You’re my son, ok? I will always love you."

The boy looked uncertain but nodded. Phil wrapped his arm around his child. "Now, how about we get started on the farm, yeah?" 

The two worked on the farm almost all day and would have finished if not for the bird that flew in. 

Now you see, this wasn’t a normal bird you would see. It was a small boy, maybe a year or two years younger than Techno. 

The boy fell from the trees, falling on top of a sack of potatoes. Phil had gone back inside, telling him that the two needed to have a drink of water. 

"A bird?" Techno asked himself, his grip on the hand-held shove in hand tightens. Then he noticed that said bird had human features, what with the hands and feet, and a cut-up face. Brown eyes stared up at him, the feather kid looked a little scared. "Are you a bird?" 

The boy looked up at him, brown eyes landing on the potato sack he laid on top of. " Music is better than potatoes. " 

"Potatoes are great projectiles," Techno countered him, pulling said spud. “What are you doing here?” 

Bird-boy sat up. “I fell from a tree, I have no clue this place was here,” he admitted. “But what are you doing here?”

“I live here.”

“But you don’t look human.”

“Neither do you.”

Both drew quiet after that, just staring at each other, Techno sitting down a little bit in front of him. A wind blew through the area, cause a few of the feathers that were in the boy’s hair to flutter. The pink-haired kid watched as the taller brushed the dirt from his hair.

“Why did you fall out of a tree?” Techno asked after a while, red eyes blinking at the taller boy. He looked at the reddish-brown feathers and was almost tempted to reach out and pet them. “You looked like a bird that flew into my window the other day.”

He laughed before becoming a little soberer. “I was running from some hunters,” his voice spoke out. Bird-boy lifted his arms, showing off the wings that connected his arms to his sides. “They wanted my wings and my voice box said that they would be viewable in the market. I didn’t want them to take them, so I ran. I like to sing too much to let them.”

Techno nodded. “Humans are mean, but my dad is human,” he told the other boy, crossing his arms. “He protected me from the mean ones when I was little. If dad didn’t find me, I wouldn’t be here. He’s my family.”

Phil walked out the backdoor with the two glasses of water, noticing his son talking with another boy. He watched as the two just talked, and before long, a laugh escaped the boy. The father took note of how the boy looked different by human standards. 

He took a risk and walk to the two.

“Family is important, yes,” the feather boy said, hearing footsteps from behind in. The boy looked up at the man, . “Um, hello?” 

“Hello,” Phil said, smiling at him as he kneeled to his level. “You look a little banged up. Did someone hurt you?”

The boy began to slightly rub his feathers, looking down at his hand. On the back of the boy’s hand were green letters, a simple; “ Hello .” he went to explain how he had gotten himself into. 

And as the sunset, Phil wrapped his arms around both boys. “Well let’s head inside, and I’ll fix up some dinner,” he said. 

His pink-haired child stood to his feet and reached his hand down to the boy. “I’m Techno,” he said. “I promise dad won’t you.”

The brown-haired boy looked at his hand for a second, before reaching up and grabbing the offered hand. “I’m Wilbur.”

Phil leads the two kids inside, smiling as they started to talk again. This little bird was the one connected to his mark, he realized as the two flopped themselves down on the couch and were just having fun being kids. Not beings that humans wish they were, just these kids who were different from everyone else.

And if Wilbur decided that he wanted to stay, Phil would make sure he knew that no matter what he looked like, what he liked, or even how he acted, Phil would be there to tell him he is there to help support him. 


	14. Fuzzy Edges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy should have remembered his meds, he really should have. MCC was stressful, and that did not help with his blood pressure.  
> Time for Wilbur and Phil to hurry over to help, but also for Techno to get his answers from everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to get this baby done like 3 hours or so ago.  
> Qar, I hope you enjoy this and it's what ya looking for. Wild, thank you for letting me use the idea.  
> Gonna have another SBI centered fic, but imma think its thanksgiving themed.

Tommy knew he forgot something when he began to feel light-headed during Minecraft Championship. 

He started out fine and had no problems with the first two games. They had played Get-To-The-Other-Side and Hole-in-wall, both very stressful games. It wasn’t until Parkcore started that Tommy started to stress a little. And the others of the Red Rabbits could tell something was wrong just by how out of it the teen sounded. 

Even his own chat was starting to worry about him. 

“Chat, I’m fine,” he said, rolling his eyes at his screen. “No need to get Phil, and no need to worry him. Or Wilbur. Or Techno for that matter. I will be fine.”

He knew he forgot to take his blood pressure medicine.

As he said that his vision seemed to go a little fuzzy, and he tried to rub his eyes to get rid of the lightness of his mind. It was halfway through Battle Box, and he wanted to at least win one time. 

That goal seemed to be abandoned when his teammates heard the sound of something hitting Tommy’s desk, and Tubbo began to worry. “Tommy?” his voice spoke out. He tried again but no response, it wasn’t until he noticed someone spamming something in his chat did he start to panic. He turned his character to face his two other teammates, Wisp and Quackity. “Can one of you guys tell an admin that something is wrong with Tommy? I need to go tell Phil and Wilbur what’s going on.” 

He quickly moved himself to the VC room that the Green Guardians were talking in.

“We should really try going for-” Phil’s voice was cut off by a new person in their VC.

“Phil, Wilbur we have a problem.”

“What is it Tubbo?”

“Something happened with Tommy.”

Wilbur was staring at his chat, watching as people started to flood into his stream. “He passed out?”

The teen let out a noise in confirmation. He wanted to say more, like how his best friend was spacing out or not getting out of the way of moving slimes. He wanted to try and tell them about how he started to lose focus on the last game. 

It took a minute before the two adults even said a word, and it concerned their two teammates. 

George could hear the sound of someone moving around on Wilbur’s end, and then his character disappeared, as he logged out. Soon Phil was gone two. The other teams started to spam the in-game chat, questioning where the two men were going. Even TapL was a little confused but joined George in getting their chats to calm down. 

Before long, Tubbo had to move back to his own VC, where Wisp and Quackity were waiting on him. When the two asked what was going on, Tubbo didn’t know how to answer.

Wilbur had already turned off his stream and was out the door before Phil could have even hit the power button of his computer. The other people in his office building stuck their heads out of their offices, watching as he struggled to throw on his jacket and hold his keys. One lady looked about ready to ask the man what was wrong but decided against it at the stressed look he had.

Opening the door of his car, and hopping in, Wilbur took a deep breath before starting the vehicle and pulling out his parking spot. He knew he should have been more worried when Tommy told him just the other week his parents would be out of town for a while. He should have tried asking how long he would be on his own. But that was on him, and he was the one going to fix it.

Phil got a Discord message as soon as his computer shut down, from Techno it seemed. The blood god was spamming him for answers, trying to get the older man to answer him.

“What is going on?” His messages would read, over and over. “Answer me Philza, what is wrong with Tommy?”

He started to shove on his shoes while typing on his phone with one hand, hoping his writing was readable. Kristen watched with a raised eye brow as her husband hopped around on one foot while trying to stay standing. She watched as his thumb flew across the small screen of his phone. 

“Hun?” she asked, as he finially sat on the couch. “What’s going on, why are you in such a rush? I thought it was a MCC day?”

Her husband nodded, before getting his shoe to stay on his foot. “Something happened with Tommy,” his voice broke out. “Tubbo told us that he pasted out right before everyone could vote on the fourth game. Wilbur and I are going to go check on him.”

Kristen just looked on worriedly as Phil grabbed his car keys, placing a kiss on her check before promising to call her when he had news on the teen. 

On the other side of the world, Techno was starting at his phone, watching as more and more people told him something had happend during MCC not long ago. Then the official tweet from the admins of the games came on his twitter feed. 

A change of plans have happened for the Red Rabbits. @LDShadowlady will be joining them as @Tommyinnit has gone offline for the time being.

Do not worry, we have eveything under control.

That was the finally straw, as he his spamming of his friends was not working, it was time to take this into his own hands. His lap top was in his hand before he knew it, typing away.

Back over in the UK, Wilbur thought he might get pulled over for how fast he was speeding. It didn’t matter to him, all that did matter was making sure Tommy was alright. His grip tighten on his wheel, trying to imagin what could be wrong with the teen. 

He tried to think back to anything that could have made Tommy passout, but the only thing he could think of was lack of sleep, but he knew that the blond had gotten a least a few hours of sleep last night.

When he finally pulled up to Tommy;s house after about an hour of speed driving, Wilbur hurried to the front door. The house was a two story home in a pretty populated area, what with each block being full of houses after houses. The one in front of Wilbur was painted a cream brown color. The roof was tared a black color. 

For mid Novmber, it was quite warm. And Wilbur was glad for that, only having to really wear a long sleaved shirt. It was a blessing, really. Having one last moment before the world around them turned cold and bitter.

Wilbur picked up the potted plant, and reached down to pick up the house key that sat underneith. He was glad that Tommy trusted him enough to tell him where the key was at least. It helped when he had to take Tommy home once from when he spent the weekend at Phil’s place a few months ago.

The house was quite clean, what with everything in it’s place. Shoes lined up in besided the door, coats hung on the hooks. But that was all nice and dandy, just not what he was looking for. 

He had a child to check on.

Up the stairs, Wilbur began to hear the sound of music from one of the rooms. ‘Tommy’s room’ his mind told him, before he pushed open the door. It looked just like it did anytime that the teen had his face cam open. 

But laying on the floor, was Tommy. The teen looked like he just had fallen over in a heap, and was just blinking up at the celling. A small stream of blood was slowly falling from his forehead, but he made one motion to wipe it away.

“Tommy?” Wilbur asked, as he slowly entered the room. The teen didn’t answer him, but his blue eyes landed over at his tall figure. Kneeling down to sit on the floor, Wilbur tried to get his friend to sit up. “Let’s get you cleaned up, while you tell me what happened, ok?”

When he had gotten them both into the bathroom, Wilbur started to get stuff out to bandage up the teen. 

“I forgot to take my meds this morning,” Tommy muttered as the older man finished up his frist aid job. “Mother told me to not forget, since if I can to excited with stuff, I get dizzy. You can see how that turned out.”

Wilbur just let out a sigh, before wrapping his arm around the teen he saw as a little brother. He just held him, making him know that he was there. This was the first time he had even heard of Tommy having health problems before today. He knew they could be personal, but sometimes stuff like this worried people. 

The two went to the kitchen at once point, where Wilbur started to fix up some food. Tommy watched from the counter as his older brother made mac & cheese from a box. He found it quite funny to see his older brother struggle at following the directions, even basic ones like the box gave.

Just as the two were starting to dig in, a knock came at the door. 

Phil was gettting worried. On the way here, he could hear his phone sounding off notications as he drove down the freeway. The man could have swore that almost half of them were from Techno, trying to get him to tell him what was happening. And now that he stood at the front door of Tommy’s house, and he was quite sure that his stress levels were through the non-exsiting roof. 

Wilbur was the one to open the door, and he smiled at the sight of the man. “Phil!” he said, opening the door so the man could come in. “Took you along enough.”

He could tell the tall man was joking, just from how he held himself and the grin on Wilbur’s face. Phil gave him a hug before he was lead to the kitchen were he saw a figure hunched over a bowl. 

At the sound of foot steps, Tommy looked up. The short man saw the bandages that stuck to his his forehead, and saw the tried eyes he had. And Phil took a few quick steps before awrapping the teen into a hug. 

His stress seemed to have melted when the teen started to hug back. It made him glad that he had driven over here. Phil was happy that the teen was alright. Knowing Tommy was not as hurt as he frist thought. 

Wilbur fixed a bowl of food for Phil and the three moved to the couch so they could talk. It was good just talking with them, Tommy relized, good just getting to talk with them face to face. They watch a few movies for they slowly nodded off.

The next morning, Tommy was woken up by knocking on his door. As he glared at the clock the hung over the couch, before he relized he was still on the couch. Beside him, both Phil and Wilbur were still asleep. There was a stack of bowls on the coffee table, evidence from their meal from the day before.

Tommy stood to his feet, a sleepily headed to the door. 

Standing on the other side, standing just a little bit taller than Wilbur, was a man with pink, faded brown hair. He wore a minecraft shirt, and a there was a backpack strapped to his back. At the teen’s strange look, he gave out a laugh. 

“Did someone call for anarchy?”

“Techno!” the now more awake teen exclaimed and then the sound of something hitting the floor make Tommy jump. Turning around, he almost had to laugh at sight before him. Laying on the ground, in an heap of sleepy men, was Wilbur and Phil. The two looked up at the male at the door. 

Techno let out a laugh, before holding a passport up for the three to see. “Desided to take matters in my own hands when no one would tell me anything,” he said. “And I was due for a trip over here sooner or later.”

Tommy watched as he the three adults, and had to smile at them. He was glad to call these men his perso-brothers cared enough about him to show their faces, when his parents were gone for the weekend. 

Maybe forgettting his medicince for once wasn’t such a bad idea.


	15. Phil the Thankful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil was happy to say his family was what he was thankful for, and he was thankful that he got to live to see each and every one of them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AGES FOR THIS FIC-  
> Wilbur is 26  
> Techno is 24  
> Tommy and Tubbo are 17  
> Niki is 25  
> Fundy, Dream, and George are all 5 (IDC IF GEORGE IS ACTUALLY OLDER)  
> Phil is 41  
> Bad is 21  
> Skeppy is 21  
> AND IMMA REALLY SORRY FOR THE END, I PROMISE IMMA SORRY

Thanksgiving wasn't something they always used to celebrate. 

Phil remembered the first time he learned about it from his son, who told him what they used to do back when he was little. What the Blade family used to do every November.

It was an American tradition, he knew, but one that his little boy wanted to do even over in the UK. And the father was going to deliver. 

For the first two years, it was just Techno and him. They would buy a turkey, get potatoes, and so many other foods, and just relax around the dining room table. It made his son happy to have dinner. 

Phil was thankful for his son.

On the third thanksgiving, another son joined them. Wilbur brought with him music and excitement that the two could never seem to have beforehand. It made Phil happy to see both his son’s happiness and to hear their laughter, 

Phil was thankful for that.

A few years later, Tommy joined their little family. The toddler was loud and never seemed to stop talking, always on the move. The little blond boy started the first of many of the mashed potato wars that would happen for years.

And Phil was thankful for those two. 

He stood in the kitchen, mixing a bowl of stuffing for the bird. To his left, Niki was pouring the batter for a pumpkin pie into the premade crust, softly singing along to a song her best friend was playing on his guitar. 

The sound of giggling children reached his ears, and looking out the window above the sink, watched as three little boys letting out screams as his pink-haired son chased them. He made him smile to see his normally quiet and monotone son yelling out, and just having fun. 

Behind him, he could hear Tommy and his best friend, Tubbo playing a video game in the living room. And the sound of two adults sitting on the other couch, laughing as they watched the two teens almost shout at each other. 

It was the sound of his family, and Phil was thankful for that. 

The house had seen a lot, and his family had grown quite a lot since it all began. His son’s slowly brought their friends into all this, and Wilbur brought his son’s friends along one day. They stuck around after that.

Niki looked up at him, her pie is all but ready to be placed in the oven. “Pie is ready to get baked,” her soft voice spoke up, almost unhearable through the loud noises of those around him. “Need any help with anything else?” 

He shook his head. “No, no I got it, thanks though,” he said, smiling up at her. “Why don’t you go see if Wilbur will let you play his guitar for a bit? I got it handled in here for now.”

“Well, if you need help, you’ll know where to find me,” she told him, patting his shoulder as she walked out of the kitchen. Phil watched as she sat herself down beside a lanky man with shaggy brown hair, who was playing his guitar and singing. She joined in quite quickly joining in, and his son started to smile as she did the chorus on her own.

Just watching them made his heart feel light like it was surrounded by clouds. 

The back door opened, and in running a small boy with bright red hair. He had a black jacket with a colorful array of patches going over the side. Sitting on the top of his puffy hair, was a matching back cap, pins stuck on the front. 

“Grandpa!” the little boy said, coming to wrap his little arms around his leg, looking up with those bright brown eyes. “George won’t let me date Dream.”

He gave out a chuckle, kneeling down to his height. “And why is that, Fundy?”

The little boy crossed his arms and gave out an adorable little pout. “Cause he said he wanted to date Dream.”

Behind his grandson, the rest of the people who outside came in. Techno had his hands on both boy’s shoulders. 

Techno wore a blood-red jacket, wrapped around his white turtle neck sweater. There was a holden colored beanie sitting on top of his dyed pink hair. He stood a head taller than his father, not that he would say anything about it. 

On the pinkettes left, wrapped up in his thick green jacket, was a blond boy. His eyes were green and bright. And beside him, was a brown-haired boy with white goggles on his forehead. A dark blue jacket held tightly around him, as he glared at the redhead. 

The glare looked almost wrong on the five-year-old.

“Mr. Phil, Dream’s my friend first!” said the boy in blue. 

Just as both boys began to glare at each other, two more adults come in to see what they were shouting about. The first man wore a black hoodie, glasses sat on his face. His green eyes looked worriedly at the two boys, seeing that the boy in green looked almost uncomfortable. 

The other man wore a bright blue hoodie, his dark hair puffed up into the air. He looked almost like he wanted to ask a question but Techno shook his head. Phil seemed to have noticed the energy the two gave off and placed his hands on the two shoulders. 

“George, Fundy,” he said, smiling slightly at the two. They looked up at him, their glares gone. “Today is a day to be thankful for what we have and those we love, ok boys? You both love Dream, and I’m sure he loves you just as much.”

Dream nodded at his words, a grin on his face. 

“How about this? You two makeup and give each other a hug, and all three of you guys can get an extra slice of the sweet ham imma baking.”

At that, all of them looked at each other, before the two fighting boys started to hug each other. 

“I'm sorry that I said you couldn’t date Dream,” George muttered.

“Imma sorry I got us both in trouble.”

Phil nodded, satisfied with the exchanged the two had. He turned to the two adults that came in during the little argument., raising an eyebrow at them.

“What these three Muffinheads do now?” the man in black asked, pushing up his circular glasses. He had an American accent, not much unlike his middle child; even though Techno’s had been influenced by living in England since he was 8. 

“It’s fine Bad.” The father stood to his feet, waving off their concern when his knees popped. He wasn’t as young as he once was. Phil watched as the three five-year-olds all ran back outside, Techno just shook his head before making his way to the living room. 

A burning smell filled the room. The music stopped.

“Frick,” Phil muttered, grabbing the oven mitts and threw open the door to the oven. He had to wave his hand in front of his face to block out the black smoke that blew out. “You got to be kidding me…”

In the over sat the, now burnt, turkey and ham. Both were charcoal black and smelt horrible. 

“Mr. Phil, it's ok, we can order out like burgers or something,” the adult in the blue hoodie tried to reassure him, as the man pulled the bird from the heated box. Phil took note that his voice was much like Bad’s. “Maybe we can get Turkey Burgers?”

The father fave out a laugh, but it was short. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, actually, what with burning the bird. But it was when it was just Techno and him, back when the boy was 8. That was a fun day, and they had just gone out bought some KFC. 

Maybe it was going to be the same this year, Phil thought, done mourning his burnt turkey. 

A hand was placed on his shoulder, making him lookup. Standing on his left were two of his sons. Tommy had the burnt ham in his ovenmit covered hands, placing it on the other side of the oven. Wilbur was the one who had his hand on his father's shoulder, the guitar was forgotten back at the dining room table. 

“Skeppy’s got a point dad,” his oldest son said. “We can just get some take out.” 

Phil looked up at all the people who stood around the kitchen island. Even the three kids came back in, hearing the commotion in the kitchen. His sons stood around him, and their friends all stood nearby. 

He gave a sigh, nodded. His blue eyes landed on the burnt food once more. “Anyone up for going to a dinner or something?”

All at once, people began to say their agreeance to the idea. And even the three kids began to almost scream about the idea of getting a burger. And people began to talk about who would ride with who. 

It was funny to see Tommy and Tubbo fight with Techno on who got the front seat in Phil’s car, and it made the father laugh so hard he thought his lungs had fallen out just from how out of breath he was. 

He was glad his family had gotten so big over the span of the last 16 years, and the thought of all them who joined the family he wanted to create at at age of 20. Even if it took him five years before he was able to be approved to adopt, and almost 16 years before he became a grandfather. 

Phil loved his family, he thought as he got into the driver's seat of his car. 

He loved that people who somehow he got attached to over the years, he thought has the three boys got into the vehicle. 

And he would love them until his dying day, the little voice in the back of his head said, and he smiled. 

Maybe they weren’t perfect. He put the car into drive.

Maybe they were just a bunch of people looking for a home. He started to move done the driveway while the two teens in the back laughed. 

And maybe it was better that way. He stopped at the end of the driveway, looking both ways before proceeding. He didn't see the truck that was heading their way.

And maybe, just maybe, this was all supposed to be. The truck tried to slow down but failed. 

His family was important, he realized as he saw Techno fiddling with the radio. A horn blared through the air, trying to warn the moving car.

Phil's world turned dark, as he heard the sound of a scream. 

And Phil was thankful for his family, at the end of the day.


	16. Dancing Sparks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world as you might know it is much different from this world. Where those with powers walked the earth and each and every one of them are different from the rest. 
> 
> Tommy lost one family and gain another

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, one, imma sorry for the last chapter. I did not know what I was going, to be honest.   
> And second off, this is just some hurt comfort cause you all seem like you need it.   
> Enjoy!

The world was quite the same after the explosion that shock the world. Since the day that made the world tremble at the sight of humans gaining odd powers. Of men and woman would show skills that were unmatched by any regular human

Superhumans began to pop up randomly after that.

At first, the government wanted to obtain them, to keep them in line and away from the normal humans. It was fine at first since most of the powerful people had no clue how to use their powers or even control them.

Then, an organization stood up to help them learn how; through trial and error. They were called P.O.G.: Powers of Our Generation. They worked together with the enhanced humans, to make sure they knew how to use their newfound powers. 

And soon, heroes and villains showed their faces, and the world began to fight for good and evil. 

The villains in his history were not the villains, Tommy realized one night as he sat up in bed. It was the middle of the night, the only light in the room was the lightning that rolled around his fingers. And there were no heroes either. 

The only heroes were his family. The only villains were his family. 

It made his life a little strange being the only group of Anti-Heroes in the city, to fight only for themselves and not others. They looked out for each other, and they were all the saving he wanted to do.

Tommy could remember when his dad and brothers had found him, had taken him in. 

It was nearing late November, and the boy was shorter then, younger. He had to have been at least six, if not older. He had been sitting in the wreckage that once was his home, the place he once lived with his parents. 

Tears flow down his face, his hands covered in ash and his lungs felt like they were full of dust. His blue eyes were strained on the object in his hands, trying not to hold on too tightly to it. 

A flash drive showed up at him, the only thing his father had given to him before the house began to burn from the outside in. He could remember breathing in the smoke, could remember his mother screaming for help. Tommy could remember his mother and father holding him, keeping him below the thick cloud of smoke. It wasn’t enough, and the fire burnt his parents to the ground, along with the only home he had ever known. 

In the ashes of his house, in the burnt pile of rubble that once was his home, a figure in bright yellow slowly walked up to him. With tear-filled eyes, Tommy looked up at the teen, wiping his blue eyes to stop his crying. 

The teen wore a yellow knitted sweater, jeans ripped at the knees. His brown hair was flacked with the ashes that floated down from the sky, and a yellow beanie was held into his hand. He kneeled down to the boy’s level, lifting his hand to his cheek, wiping away the tears. 

“Hey, no need to cry,” his voice was cheery, and that just made another sob fall from Tommy’s lips. The teen frowned for a second before he started to hum, pulling the boy close. Just hugging him. “It’s okay to cry, and it’s ok to mourn. They were your family, but I promise I want to help you.”

The boy was just sobbing into the teen’s shoulder, trying to calm his breathing. He wanted to stop his tears, he wanted to calm his breathing, but it was like a dam that never seemed to stop flowing. 

The sound of footsteps reached his ears, and he looked up from the now wet shoulder, looking up at the two other figures who walked through the fading cloud of smoke. 

A blond man with a bucket hat kneeled down beside them, resting his hand on Tommy’s shoulder. The boy noticed he had big, gray wings on his back, acting almost like a cloak of feathers. He wore a green tunic, and there was dust was smeared like he was rubbing at it. 

The figure was much different than the other two. His skin was pink, almost like a rose pink color. His hair was almost a neon color in the smokey air, it was long and tied down his side in a long braid. Two pointy ears poked out from his flowing hair, one with two black earrings. A teen, Tommy thought. 

But, like a light switch had been flipped, Tommy felt a little weird. It wasn’t like how it felt weird when he was younger and the cake he ate made his stomach feel weird. It wasn't the same weird feeling when his mom would yell out his father after letting him stay up a little later than normal. 

It made his hands feel tingly, and before he knew it, the energy seemed to jump from his fingertips. Both the teen in yellow and Tommy pulled apart from each other. The small blond boy stared at his fingers, watching them spark with red and yellow; sparks dances across his skin. 

The man in the bucket hat smiled as the teen had to back up, standing to his feet and stepping away back to stand by the pink-haired man. More tears fell as he tried to keep his grip on the flash drive, but it fell at his feet. The one thing his father gave him, and now he had dropped it. 

Before he knew it, a singing voice broke through his running thoughts, and his sobs got stuck in his throat. The song was soft, and it was calming, like a lullaby that his mother used to use to sing him to sleep. The sparks ceased their stop their dance, his hands didn't feel weird anymore.

Bucket hatted man placed both his hands onto Tommy's shoulders, blue meeting blue. “Son, it’s ok,” his voice was gentle. The singing seemed to slow. “I’m Phil, what’s your name?”

“Tommy.” 

“Well Tommy,” he said, standing to his feet, reaching a hand down to help the boy up. “How about we go get you cleaned up, and somewhere warmer?”

Tommy reached down and picked up the soot-covered drive, shoving it into his jeans pocket before taking the offered had. 

And after almost ten years of living with the three men he learned to call his family, the teen learned how to control the weird lightning, the weird sparks that filled his body. 

They say emotions are one of the strongest forces on the earth, and his anger, his sadness, any emotion that was very strong for the teen made the sparks happen. 

He had what his dad called Bio-Electricity Manipulation when he used the electricity within his body to make sparks and then expelled them from his skin. It was a handy power, especially when his childhood bullies began to pick on his best friend. 

Tubbo, his best friend, had the power to control bees. Which, while it was still pretty cool, it wasn't that great when bees hybernated. The blond was glad he had the power he could use without many people noticing. 

Soon after he was taken in by his new family, he learned of their powers. 

Wilbur could influence people with only his voice, and sometimes with the help of his guitar. It was how he was so popular throughout his life and still was, the teen mused. He was the one singing the night they found him, and it helped calm him.

His dad, Phil, was part bird it seems. With large wings that spanned his arm's length, and was like the warmest blanket Tommy had ever been wrapped up in. Phil also had the eyes of a hawk, so doing anything past him was almost impossible while the man was in the room.

And his other brother, who he soon learned was named Techno, was invulnerable. He could not die, the pink-haired man told him once, because his body kept regenerating. Kinda like the Wolverine from the comic books he used to read when he was small. 

His family was an odd bunch, but he was fine with that. 

The school he went to, SMP High (School for Magic and Powers) was the only school in the district that P.O.G. let superpowered kids go to since everyone there knew how to calm and take down any students who lost control for even just a minute. It’s was where he had met Tubbo, the shorter always knew how to bring a smile to his face. 

But as he sat up in the middle of the night, the sparks dancing on his fingers, Tommy pulled out the flash drive that sat on the middle of his bed. 

For years he’s been hiding the drive from his family because his father had made him promise to never let anyone look at the flash drive. It’s been hiding the little stick of plastic and computer power in a shoebox under his bed, hiding it from his brothers, from his dad, and from even Tubbo. 

They all thought he had lost it the same day they found him, but he wanted to make sure whatever his father wanted him to keep was hidden from anyone. Not even his family could see it if he could help it.

So, he pulled out his laptop from off his desk, and booted up the device, sticking the flash drive-in. Files upon files filled the computer screen, blue eyes clicking through each and every one of them. It took him almost until 4 am until he saw one that really caught his eye.

“Human testing...stage three...electricity,” he muttered, trying to understand the report before him. It wasn’t until he saw a picture pop up, and he thought he might fire his computer from the shock he felt. It was a picture of him, he was sure. What with his fluffy blond hair and blue eyes. 

But he didn’t look right. 

He was sitting on a table, and there were bandages around both his hands, and there was a patch on his cheek. And behind him, Tommy could see a computer screen. Why did he look so beat up? What happened?

There was a note below his picture. “Test have shown that my son, Thomas [REDACTED], has been showing signs of having powers that my team has not seen before. My wife has soon signs that she is not liking how I am trying to help our son. Future research is needed to be done to show her that this is all being done to help our little boy.”

Just reading that almost made tears fall from his eyes. 

He never knew he had powers until the day his dad and brothers found him, he didn't know his father was so against powers. His mother at least sounded like she was against his father.

Before he knew it, Tommy had to use a pillow to muffle his cries. 

The door to his room opened, he could hear it, and then his bed dipped a little, and an arm wrapped around his shoulder. It was his dad, and he just hugged the man back, if not tighter.

Phil didn’t ask what had happened, he probably was reading the report over Tommy’s shoulders. He didn’t care what his father did, he just cared that he now had a dad that actually cared about him. 

He had a family that stood tall. And he was happy to be part of it. 


	17. Ticking down to baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone in the world has a timer on their arms, some had more than others.   
> Wilbur knew his dad had three, one for all his brothers and himself.   
> His just seemed to never be nearing its end.  
> Then it all changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another soulmate au? of course!   
> I saw a post on Pinterest for different soulmates Aus and this one just stuck out at me, and I had to write it.   
> Enjoy!

To say Wilbur was stressed was an understatement. 

The hospital he sat in was cold, and there was an echo of footsteps against the tile floor. The room gave off a chill that made a shiver go down his spine. 

His foot continued to bounce, as he waited in the comfortable plastic chair, killing his back. His brown eyes staring at the door in front of him, waiting for a nurse or a doctor to come out and tell him the news. He could hear the sound of someone yelling out.

One of his hands started to rub at the small timer that sat on his right wrist, a habit his doctors have told him numerous times to stop. It would hurt if the timer came out, they would say, hurt like getting your hand cut off.

Wilbur looked down at the ticking timer, watching as the numbers went down second by second. Even if he could not hear it, the man sometimes thought he hears the sound of a ticking clock, as the number of hours turned to minutes and then seconds. 

Everyone in the world had a timer on their arms, some more than others. 

The young man could remember his dad showing him his left arm once, having three different times on one arm. One was stopped, while the other two kept ticking down, one longer than the others. 

_ “The one that is stopped is your Wil,” his dad said, pointing to the one closes to his wrist. “The other two are for two other people that are going to enter my life and make it even better than before.”  _

_ “But what about my timer, Dad?” the younger Wilbur had asked, staring up with those big eyes he once had. So full of childlike wonder. He showed his dad one that looked to have a number that spanned into months, years even. “When will I meet my soulmate?” _

_ Phil, his father, smiled, holding the offered wrist in his palm. “You’ll find them were your an adult, son,” he said, pointing out the years that the clock showed. “Maybe yours will be a child, like your timer was for me.” _

Wilbur wanted to believe his father he really did, but when he turned 18, his timer was still so long from not being finished. 

His best friends tried to get him on a date, to see if his timer would speed up a little. He meets plenty of nice peoples, even a few who he thought he really liked. But nothing would make the numbers click down to zero.

Then he met Sally. 

It was at a bar, and he regretted letting Schlatt and Niki drag him along. They said it was to celebrate his timer reaching almost 12 months. He tried to tell them that it meant nothing since he had given up at this point on meeting his soulmate.

Love just seemed hopeless before he met the redhead woman, who had a sharp tongue and knew when to joke around. It made his life seem brighter, he seemed brighter. Everyone who knew him could see that, from the jump in his step. 

He forgot about his timer for the first time in years. Wilbur forgot he was supposed to be looking for the soulmate that his timer had been designed to show him as the time came, he forgot that the universe wanted him to love someone other than this beautiful woman in his life.

The world seemed to crash around him when Sally told him she was pregnant with their child. It was like everything seemed to freeze when she told him that she was too young to be a mother, that she didn't want to raise a child. 

But he wanted to have a child, to raise his own flesh and blood. 

They fought over it, and it ended with Wilbur leaving to spend the night at his dad’s house. He had shown up with tear-filled eyes and almost collapsed in his dad’s arms, crying his heart out. 

His little brothers were home then, they had seen their older brother look like a mess of cruelly hair and tears. It made Wilbur wish he had just slept in his car. 

His brothers' didn't need to see him like that, to see him so broken. 

Phil had just asked him what happened, and who he needed to send Techno and Tommy to beat up. It made a laugh fall from his lips, the first true laugh since his fight with Sally. 

He had made a plan with his family to get to have his child, someone who hasn't even been born yet. The Sleepy family laughed at the crazy ideas that Tommy came up with, and Wilbur had to giggle when Techno said something in his monotone voice, always about hitting the woman with one of his potatoes.

Just the thought of the redhead getting pelted with the spuds made Wilbur let out a cackle, one that had his whole family laughing. It felt good to laugh, to let the tears be forgotten, and just be happy.

The next day, his family went with him to speak with Sally, to discuss what they could do about their new situation. It was decided that Sally would carry their child to term, and then have nothing to do with the baby. That would be left to Waston Family. 

And so here he was nine-month from then, looking down at his wrist. It was down to a few minutes at this point, and his anxiety was skyrocketing. 

Techno and his dad sat on either side of him, both stressed from what was happening in the other room. Their younger brother was at his best friend’s house, as asked to by their dad. It was late, almost 2 am. 

The past few months have been stressful for all of Wilbur’s family. 

Wilbur had moved back home, where his family agreed to let him clear out his old room. His brothers had turned it into a gaming room, but now it was fit for the soon-to-be father and his child. 

It was painted a cream-yellow on half of the room since Sally refused to find out the gender of the baby. There was a crib on one wall, almost directly opposite his bed. It had bright yellow bedding, something that Wilbur thought would be nice since it was his favorite color. 

His brothers all helped him put the music-themed mobile over the bed. It had music notes, and when Wilbur flipped a switch, it would play twinkle little star. It was the song that Tommy recommended when Wilbur was trying to program the stupid thing, said the song was cute. Or in his words, “Sounded like a song your music-loving ass would make his child listen to.”

His dad was always there to make sure he knew that his family would be there to back him up in anything he did. Making sure to remind him to sleep when he stayed up late writing songs, to remind him to take a break and eat. 

A hand rested on his shoulder, knocking him from his thoughts. 

To his left was Techno, his dyed pink hair was tied up in a messy man bun. He had rushed over from his job at the library, still dressed in his white button-up, alburn red slacks, and his golden tie. His book back sat at his feet, open with all the books he had checked out.

“How you feeling?” his monotone voice spoke out. 

Wilbur shrugged. “I really don't know, Tech,” his gaze went down to his wrist. It was down to ten minutes. “It keeps going down.”

The pink-hair man nodded, his red eyes looking at the door of the hospital room. “Maybe your kid is the one it's ticking down to,” his voice was loud in the empty halls. It was like a ghost town if Wilbur had to put it lightly. “Maybe you’ll meet one of the nurses or a doctor, the world maybe never know.”

A chuckled could be heard on the other side of Wilbur, and there was the two brothers' dad, smiling at his sons. His blond hair was down to his ear tips, blue eyes almost blocked by the locks. His familiar green and white bucket hat was held tightly in his hands. 

Much like his middle son, Phil was still in his work clothes. His office clothes were much like Techno’s outfit. He wore a green button-up shirt and black slacks. Sitting on his leg was his phone, showing a group chat he was typing in. 

“It’s for your kid, Wilbur,” he said. He noticed his oldest confused looked. “It was like I knew your timer and both of your brothers would be the timers on my wrist Wil. if you don't believe me, wait until you hold your baby in your arms.”

Before he could even ask how his dad knew that, the door opened, and out stepped a woman in pale purple scrubs, her brown hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. She looked tired, which Wilbur didn’t blame her, Sally had been in there for almost ten hours. 

The three men stood to their feet, Wilbur starting to rub at his timer again. “Is everyone ok?” 

“Ms. Oir and the baby are just fine,” the tried nurse told him, giving a slight smile. “She has told me to tell you that she wishes not to see your son and to tell you good luck. Would you like to come to your son?”

Son? He had a son? 

His heartfelt light as he nodded his head. 

The nurse leads him and his family to another room, saying that it would be easier than trying to get Sally to let them in. it was like a room a family would wait to hear if their loved one would be ok after surgery. This time it was so he could meet his son for the first time. 

It was still a big shock to learn he has a son. He hadn’t even really thought of what he would name his boy. 

His brother stood by the window, holding up his phone to record the moment between father and son. Most likely to show Tommy in the morning, Wilbur thought. His fingers twitch as the nurse came in with a bundle of a blue blanket in her arms. 

She helped him hold the baby, making sure Wilbur was holding the little head in his elbow. It took all his willpower just to keep himself from dropping the small human being. His dad told him to sit down, and he did, too much in shock to really say anything about it. 

His son was here and in his arms. 

On his head was a fluffy looking ball of red hair, almost matted down by the blue baby cap on his head. His face was flushed red, and his little eyes were closed shut. But his little hand had grabbed onto his pointer finger that moment he tried to gently poke his cheek, to check to see if he was dreaming. If the last 9 months were a dream.

His eyes flashed over to his wrist, noticing that the timer had reacher zero. Wilbur smiled before his brother and father came to sit beside him. The nurse had left, for now, letting the family meet their newest member. 

“What you planning on naming him?” his dad asked, smiling down at his grandson. 

Wilbur had a name in mind, and looking down at his little boy just set it in stone. 

“Guys, I want you to meet Fundy, my son.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I might write part 2 of my thanksgiving fic, who knows...  
> ....if yall want some family comfort that is...  
> ..up to yall...if yall want it that is...


	18. The Warmth of Humanity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno hadn't felt warm in years, in centuries, not since he took the offer of the gods above them.  
> He missed his friends. He missed the ones he called his friends.   
> Then the little boy showed up...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for not updating yesterday, was really tried-

The bare wasteland that was his home stared at him, the bitter winds hitting his face. He wrapped his dark blue cloak around him tighter, trying to keep himself warm. 

He sat on top of a watchtower made of packet ice, the winds wishing to knock him off. But the man stayed and sat, and looked over at the world that was being hit with a blizzard. His nose felt like it was made of the very ice he sat on, it was so cold. 

The man ran a hand through his faded pink hair, a pair of rose-colored frames sat on his freezing nose. Under his thick blue cloak, the man wore a white button-up shirt and had black jeans. None of which helped with the cold he felt.

Behind him, another man climbed up the worn-out ladder, coming to sit next to the pink-haired man. 

He wore a bucket type hat over his blond hair, striped white and green. Around his shoulders, much like the other man, was the teal-colored cloak. A green shirt stuck out of the pulled together cloak, sticking out like a beacon in the blue biome. 

“What you doing up here?” the bucket-hat-wearing mean asked, pulling his cloak even tighter around himself. His blue eyes looked up at the taller. “It’s the middle of a blizzard Techno, we should head in before we become two more ice spicks in this place.”

Techno, the pink-haired man just continued to look over the world. “Phil? I have a question,” the man asked, pushing up his glasses. “Do you ever wonder what would have happened if we didn’t get blessed with the curse of immortality? To be stuck on this planet until its dying days?”

The blond let out a sign. “It’s been over three centuries, mate,” he said with a puff of white air around him. He was starting to get colder up there. “We made our choice when the gods asked us. I miss everyone too, but we can’t change what is already set in stone. Come on, I got a pot of vegetable stew over the fire, it has potatoes in it.”

Watching his breath turn to a white cloud, Techno nodded.

The climb down from the ice spike turned watchtower was slow, the two of them having to be careful on the descend. Each of the wooden rungs was almost caked in the ice, from being attached to the structure for so many years.

When his feet reached the ground, Techno pulled the cloak around him once again. Trying to block out the bitter winds was like trying to keep your grip on a handful of water, as it seemed to cut through the fabric. A shiver ran down his spine.

Their base was almost run down after all the years it had been standing there. The stone bricks were covered in moss and vines, even in the freezing air. The prismarine roof was starting to crack, and Techno could see a hold where an Enderman had taken a chuck of the structure.

Phil led him through the entrance, under the arch, and into the base. Everything was decayed, and even the grand staircase that once was held to high standards was run down with age. If it wasn’t for the fact that the two men still lived there, Techno would have wondered who would leave a place like this abandon.

The kitchen was still in somewhat good shape, with the working fireplace and the cabinets were still in pretty good condition. Techno could remember the day he had to go out and get more wood to replace them. It had taken him a few days to even reach land, and another day on its own to find trees. 

A fire was burning, the heat filling the room with a warmth that Techno thought he might not feel for the rest of the day. He watched as Phil walked over to the fire, looking at the pot that hanged over the roaring fire. The blond man used a wooden spoon and mixed the pot, humming a soft tune.

“Do you ever think about our old friends?” Techno asked as he took off his cloak. It was still cold, but now with the fire, he could warm up at least some. “Like Wilbur or Tommy Trusty?”

Phil stopped his movements, turning to face his friend. “I miss every one of them, Techno,” he whispered. It was like his words didn’t want to come out, but he made them. “I miss them, I do.”

No more words were spoken after that. 

Techno reached into the first cabinet closes to him, pulling down two bowls. Phil fixed them before the two could each in peace.

A thought crossed the pink-haired man’s mind. 

“I’m going to go see if the world has changed any,” his monotone voice spoke out. His blond friend just looked at him with wide eyes. “I want to see if their bases are still standing. And visit their graves.”

His friend made no motion to stop him, only smiling slightly at him. “If that’s the case, then I’m going to go visit the End and make a trip to the Nether for more Blaze powder.”

Techno nodded, as he finished off his stew. 

He didn’t know how to tell his friend that he missed the teen named Tommy Trusty, of this guy who kept trying to scam people out of their diamonds and emeralds. He missed the teen who would try and take him diamonds. He missed those days.

He left the next day, in a little rowboat across the ocean. Heading for the mainland. 

His first stop? Business Bay. Home of Tommy Trusty. 

Business Bay was a bustling city at this point, people have moved there after the founders pasted on. No longer was there any massive buildings that the men of Business Bay had made so long ago. Now houses and shops dotted the land, large towers of steal and stood rose above the tree line. 

Techno walked the cobbled street, walking between the crowd of people going about their days. No one looked or talked to him, since the story of the ‘Blood God’ had spread throughout the world, and it made his life somewhat easier. But he still wished to speak with people, to talk with someone about anything. 

His time living under the cold air and snow of the Arctic, he had the feeling of just being cold to anyone. But he wanted to be warm, he wanted to feel the warmth of people again. Techno had not felt truly warm since the two rulers of the Arctic Empire had chosen immortally from the gods above them.

He made his way to the memorial of the founders, where a statue in their name stood. Techno could almost hear their laughing voices ring in his ears, from the last time he had seen them all in person, so long ago. His red eyes stung for a second, and he brushed it off as the wind hitting his eyes. He was used to it from back in the snow-covered land he called home.

Red eyes looked up at the faces he had not seen in so many years, of the men he wished he could talk with once again.

TimeDeo, the man who was the second in command of the CEO, a man he wished he could just saying hello to once again.

Bitzel, the bodyguard of the second in command.

LukeorSomething, the head builder of the nation.

And last but not least, the CEO himself. Tommy Trusty, the scamming little teen. 

Techno could remember meeting the teen for the first time, and the little gremlin had tried to trick him out of his money, to help their little country. He could remember asking why from the teen, asking why he wanted to scam people out of their money. 

“Cause we need the money,” he had said, a grin on his face. Trusty was not fazed by the being known to knock his enemies to their knees. “Besides, Imma need some funds to run this country.”

“You’re a child.”

“I’m a big man, not a child.”

The pink-haired man had a good laugh that night, but he said nothing of the teen. He just walked away and went back to his country, way before Business Bay attacked them. Techno was just glad he got to meet the people of the nation before getting tricked into never dying.

He missed getting hurt, he missed having to work for his victories in battle, to almost fear the thought of dying. He longed for the day that the ‘Blood God’ could just be human for a moment more. 

A giggle broke him from his thoughts, almost making him jump. 

Sitting on the other side of the statue, almost hidden from view, was a small child. Bright blond hair that looked like a beacon in the bright sunlight, almost blindingly. The child wore a white shirt with red sleeves and wore a pair of tan cargo shorts. A pair of bright red tennis shoes sat on his feet, as he swang his feet back and forth. 

“What ya doing mister?” bright blue eyes stared up at him

Techno blinked. Those eyes looked so familiar. Why did they look so familiar?

“Saying hello to some old friends,” the pink-haired man told him, before kneeling to the child’s height. “What are you doing kid?”

“Not a kid,” the boy muttered before turning his bright eyes to the stone people. “This just felt like home, and mother and father don’t seem to like me running off all that much.”

His child had to be no older than five if not six. What kind of five-year-old called their parents mother and father? It made Techno feel like he was missing something, but the thought was cast aside in favor of looking back at the boy. 

The pink-haired man raised a faded brow at him. “What’s your name?”

A grin formed on the child’s face, lighting up the area around him with a smile. “Tommy Innit, at your service!”

Tommy? The man had to almost take a double-take. He looked so much like his old friend, and the child’s energy was just about the same as the man he watched grow old and die as the years went by. 

Techno then noticed a scar that sat over the boy’s nose, a jagged line of white. It stood out against the tan skin, almost like a beacon. But it reminded him of the one Trusty had, one from a fight. A scar the teen had worn like a badge of honor and would tell anyone who would listen. 

“You wouldn’t have been named after Trusty would you?”

The boy shrugged, before hopping down from his seat. The boy was short, standing almost to Techno’s hip. Blond hair fell into the blue eyes, and the man’s chest felt tight. This little boy reminded him so much of his old friend. Of the teen who used to own the very land, he stood on, of the land he watched grow larger over the last few centuries. 

“Imma going home now,” Tommy told him, looking up at him. “See you later, Big T.”

Techno watched as the child walked away, his red eyes wide as the boy left him at the memorial. 

It was like the world had been warmed up, he had felt warm while he was talking with the boy. He hadn’t felt warm in ages, hadn’t felt the warmth of humanity since his friend had passed on so many years ago. 

He looked up at the grinning face that was carved in stone. Of the teen, he called his friend, of the one he watched grow old and die. Of the one he watched make his country into something that the world would remember. 

Techno knew he could feel warm again. His friend was still trying to kick him in the shins, it seemed. Tommy Trusty might have been long since gone. 

Tommy Innit, however?

The pink-haired man ran a hand through his hair, and let out a laugh. 

He had a feeling that the boy would take the world by storm.


	19. Singing a song of Bravery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil felt like the world had come crashing down around him.   
> He had stabbed his own son, what kind of father was he?  
> He could still hear the singing voice of his son...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW// blood, death, stabbing.
> 
> Needed to write what happened on the 16th, and the aftermath of it all. at least, in my world.   
> Got inspired by a little comic by Chrisrin, an amazing animator on youtube. Go check them out.

“You’re my son Goddamnit!” Phil screamed, the sword held tightly in his hand. Tears were stuck in his eyes, refusing to fall. “I can’t kill you.”

Around him, in the empty shell that once was the control room of the TNT that laid throughout the nation of Manburg. He could see his two youngest from where he stood, he could see Tommy helping Tubbo to stand. He could see Techno, holding a Wither skull in his hand, a loaded crossbow in the other. 

His oldest son stood before him, grinning like a mad man in the middle of the ruined room. His hair was caked in dust and there was a new cut on his arm from the blast that broke the wall. 

Wide brown eyes looked at him, and he felt a pang of fear. 

“Dad, stab me,” his voice spoke out, with that crazed look. “Kill me. Killza. End me, Dad, stab me..” 

He wanted to drop the sword. He wanted to throw it into the pit beside him, to get rid of it before he could be tempted. But his grip stayed just as it was before. Not letting go, not moving it. 

Phil didn’t want to stab anyone, he didn’t want to hurt his son. Just the thought made him sick to his stomach. 

His son took a step forward, coming to stand right in front of him. “Think about all things I just did. All the pain I just caused,” he whispered. Brown eyes almost bouncing as he looked at his father. “Think off all the pain I caused our family.”

The man hugged him, and a sob almost tore his throat. He didn’t want to do it, he really did not want to kill his own son. Phil could see feel the gazes of both Techno and Tommy, wondering what was going to happen. 

Then, like someone had grabbed his arm, the sword ran through Wilbur. The young man let out a gasp, and it almost sounded like a sigh of relief. He slumped against his father, and it took all Phil’s willpower not to fall over. Instead, he lowered them both to the ground. Tears fell as he held the man he raised tightly, not wanting to let him go. Not wanting to believe he had just stabbed his child. 

His little boy.

Phil could hear gasps that ran through the crowd below him, could hear his youngest son call out his name. Could hear people asking what just happened.

When he finally managed the courage, he pulled himself away from Wilbur, checking to see how bad the stab wound was. The white shirt his son wore was now a deep red, and it made more tears flow down his face. 

Wilbur looked pale, and his breathing was uneven. But he had a smile on his face, letting out a little laugh. It made Phil’s heart feel tighter like someone was crushing it in his hands. In a sense, he was the one crushing his own hearth; he was the one to stab his son.

“Wilbur, oh my god,” he whispered. The sword was still stuck in his stomach, and he knew that if he tried taking it out, it would just be a whole lot worse. “I am so sorry.”

His son just let out a laugh, one that didn’t sound as mad as the last few the father had heard. “It’s ok dad, I promise,” it sounded like the Wilbur he knew, or at least the one he raised. “I wanted this to happen, this is what was meant to happen.”

Tears were still flowing down his face. The sound of someone trying to reach them entered his ears. He didn’t want to leave him, Phil didn’t want to move from the spot. 

His son was quietly singing a song to himself, thought what song was unknown to the father. He wanted to know, but he was too scared to ask the boy. Phil was scared that if he asked the question, the young man would use his last breath to answer him. 

Two sets of hands grabbed his arm, pulling him away from Wilbur. Looking up at the figures, he saw it was both of his other sons. Everything was muffled but could see hear the singing. 

He watched as people rushed to help his son, to try and save him.

But Phil knew it was hopeless. His son would bleed out and there was nothing he could do about it. He could do nothing but watch, watch Niki held a bundle of wool cloth to Wilbur’s stomach. Could only watch was both Tommy and Techno dragged him away from the broken room. Could only watch as his son smiled up at one of his best friends, a bloody hand reaching up to push back a lock of her hair. His lips moved, but the only sound Phil could hear was the soft singing. 

The last thing he saw of his son, was him smiling. 

That was almost half a year ago, and the damage was hard to fix. Phil didn’t think their land would ever fully heal. 

They held a funeral for both Wilbur and Schlatt, both casualty of the battle. Both sides mourned for the two friends, at the loss of these young men. It was all a blur for Phil, the only thing he could remember was holding Tommy and Tubbo close, watching as Niki, then Techno gave a little speech about his son. About the boy he raised. 

A lot of tears fell that day. 

Now, he stood in a new house he had spent the last few months building. He needed something to focus on, something to distract him. 

Tommy and Techno had moved in with him not long ago, trying to all mourn in their own time. It was the hardest on the youngest, Phil noticed. He wasn’t as loud he once was, choosing to stay in his room some days. It was like someone had taken the teen and replaced him with someone else, someone that Phil did not recognize some days.

Techno wasn’t much better. The father would find him outside some nights, swinging his sword back and forth at a hay-filled dumb-ie, taking his anger out on it. Each day, when he wasn’t tending to the potato farm, he was making a new target for his midnight rage. 

And he wasn’t much better, he had to realize. 

He would come back to that room, the one where his son had died. The one where he stabbed Wilbur, where he bled out before anyone could really have a chance to save him. He would sit against the ruined wall, looking out on the pit that was slowly being filled with dirt and sand. The man would just sit there, looking out on the last view his son had seen. Where everyone had stood and waited to see what Phil would say to Wilbur.

Phil didn’t say anything but stabbed him. Had run the young man with his own sword. 

So here he was again, sitting in that room. The pit might have almost been filled, but on request of the father, the room was left untouched. It held too many memories. To just get rid of it would be like trying to get rid of the last memory of Wilbur he had. 

He looked at the sword that was stabbed into the cobblestone floor, sticking up like Excalibur, from the stories. Like the very story, he would tell his sons at night, to be brave even in the face of danger.

A laugh bubbled out of his chest. 

Wilbur had been so brave. Tommy had been so brave. Techno had been so brave. They had been so brave for so, so very long. And here he was, a sad little mess because he was no longer brave, and he felt small. 

He felt so small like the world had grown too big, and left him where he stood. He hadn’t felt tall since the day he held his dying son, watched him sing softly and bleed. Watched as his white shirt grew darker and darker with each passing minute. 

Phil wished he could tell his son how proud he was of him, for being so brave. 

A cool breeze blew throughout the ruined room, and he wrapped his arms around himself tightly. The cold air seemed to always be there, always following him around. It was almost unnerving, to say the least. 

Then he saw it, the flickering.

It was almost unnoticeable at first, like his mind playing a trick on him. 

But then it became more noticeable. And he started to see colors show up in the darkroom. It was yellow, like sunflowers and dandelions. Like the flower fields, he would watch Tommy and Tubbo run-in, where the two would make flower crowns for each other. He remembered when his two oldest would play fight with wooden swords in the field, just joking around like they once did. 

But standing in the corner, coming in and out of focus, was the face of a man he watched die. His once dark brown hair was now a faded gray. His skin was ashen and almost blended in with his hair. His sweater, however, was a bright yellow, a pool of sunlight in the darkroom. A soft singing filled the room, and tears slowly dropped off Phil’s face. The ghost of his son stood before him, singing a tune.

“Wilbur?” his voice was barely a whisper, Phil almost couldn’t hear his own voice. 

The singing continued, but the young man smiled softly. It was like he was still alive, back before everything went to hell. Before he had lost his mind; before Phil had stabbed him all those months ago. 

His son just smiled, and the song continued, like a never-ending melody. His son’s song will always play, and that made Phil smile.


	20. Dyed Pink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno just wanted to protect his family, even if that means running.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 20th one-shot pog? I reached 40k words for this month of NANO, and Imma proud of myself/

He didn’t know when the threats began.

Techno could remember the tournaments that he walked away from with cruses and insults being thrown his way. He kept his head held high and brushed them all like the grains of sands his twin loved to eat. 

“I would hate for something to happen to his family,” he could hear someone had muttered to someone. At the time, he thought nothing of it. It was not like they could really do anything. His family was powerful, and his dad was even stronger than he was. 

The teen ran a hand through his brown hair, letting a giggle escaped his mouth. It wasn’t often that he let any emotion be seen, but he was alone for now. The next round of bed wars wasn’t for another few minutes. He could hide away in the back room for now. 

His twin had been playing with his hair that morning, right before he had to go and keep his title of Bed Wars Champion. Techno had a record to keep after all. He felt the feeling of his hair being toyed with relaxing, and it had almost lulled him back to sleep. 

The round started and over before he even knew it, ending with the man standing alone. 

He could almost feel the glares of the other players from the spectator box, and Techno was sure he could hear someone almost screaming. Most likely not from pain however, he was sure. He was sure that the people around him didn’t like him that much, but he didn’t care.

Their opinions don’t matter to him, only those of his family.

He left just as the sun was setting, heading to the main hub to reach the portal to take him home. A small bag of gold coins as his prize in hand.

The hub was full of people heading home, after long days of work and playing games. Techno watched as a few children ran by him, and he almost smiled at the sight. He could see a little purple-haired girl giggle at black hair man, who lead her to another portal, adjusting his green framed sunglasses. There was a little boy with black hair who followed after them.

When he reached his home portal, Techno took off the golden crown that sat on his curly hair. The object was worn down, but it was still in good shape. It belonged to the last reigning champion of Bed Wars, and he wore it with pride. He hung it on the handle of his sword, letting it hang at his side.

But in his homeworld, this crown did not belong. 

Stepping through the purple glow of the portal, Techno was greeted with the sight of the only home he had ever really known. The cabin was built by his father a long time before he found the set of twins or their baby brother. There were add-ons sticking off of the main house, giving the place a sense of life. 

Techno looked over at the tree line, the sun hanging in the middle of the sky. This place was a small clearing, a small place that his father had found too many years ago. It was home in the teen’s eyes.

He could remember when his dad found him and his twin almost eight years ago. Could remember how scared he felt, holding onto his brother’s hand. There had been a fire, and they both were almost seven at the time and were too young to understand what was going on. Too young to realize that the life they once had was gone, their birth family was long gone.

Then Phil found them, hiding in the ruins of the village, huddling close to stay out of sight. He promised them that no one would hurt them, as he blocked out the sight of the burning village with his large wings.

The wings that comforted them.

He was glad the man he called a father found them, had taken them in after everything that happened.

The little family began to grow over the next seven years, full of chaos and the best few years of his life. He could never remember when he felt like he actually belongs somewhere. 

Techno was born with slightly more pointed ears, the only way anyone could tell the twins apart. It was also what made him the target of bullies as they grew older.

But Wilbur was always there to protect him, to chase off the bullies.

A light was on in the front window of his home, and it made a smile show up on his face. That meant that all of his family was home for the day, done with whatever task they had. He saw a shadow move across the window, and he felt like something was wrong. 

His hand landed on his sword, almost knocking the crown onto the ground. Techno rushed onto the front porch, the wood creaking under his feet. He could hear a sound from the other side of the door, and he could hear the sound of someone moving around. Then something falling.

Or someone, he thought.

Sitting on the floor was his little brother trying to wake up Wilbur, tears falling down his face while shaking the brown-haired teen’s shoulder. He rushed over to them, kneeling down beside the small blond. 

Tommy looked up with him with bright blue eyes, and Techno looked him over for any wounds. There was a deep cut over the boy’s nose, but it was no longer bleeding. That was good at least, besides the dried blood on his face.

Laying on the floor, knocked out, was his twin. Gone with the normal grin, gone with the energy that seemed to flow off of him. There was a large knot on Wilbur’s forehead, which was probably why he was out cold. 

“Tommy what happened?” the PVP champion asked, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Who did this?”

Tears fell from the blue eyes. “I don’t know,” he said, almost letting out a sob. “I got home, and Wilby was here playing his guitar. Dad wasn’t home yet, and you weren’t home. Then there was a guy and he had a sword and-”

“Breath Tommy.”

He took a deep breath, the tears still slowly falling. “He attacked Wilby and he was just trying to protect me.”

Techno took a deep breath. “I’ll take him to our room,” he told his brother, placing his sword on the ground. His brown eyes looked at his brother, before lifting him into his arms bridal style. “Go use my communicator and ring Dad, see when he is planning on getting home. We need an adult to get here and help us.” 

He watched as his brother took his device and walk off, most likely to keep his eyes away from his unconscious brother. Techno didn’t blame him, it was hard to look at the face of his brother. He looked so tired, and he bet Wil would be out for a long time. 

The two shared bedrooms. One side was painted a creamy yellow while the other side was a faded pink. Their favorite colors, he thought. He remembered when their dad had come home with so many jars of colorful dyed and paints, and let the two go wild at painting their room. They were nine at the time.

As he laid his brother into his bed, he knocked over a wooden box that sat on the floor. A jar of pink dye rolled out along with one of Wilbur’s many notebooks, and an idea sparked in his mind. 

Their father would not be back for a long time, most likely would not get Tommy’s call for a while. And he needed to set a little plan into action. 

When he was done, he almost didn't recognize himself.

He had spent the last few hours in the bathroom with the jar of pink dye. And his once long, curly brown hair was no more. And he couldn’t almost recognize himself, and he wanted to sob. His hair was now dark pink, and almost straight as an uncooked, pink spaghetti noodle. He didn’t look like himself. 

But Techno was going this for his family, to protect them from those that wanted to hurt him. To hurt his family, to get to him. This was a sacrifice he was willing to take, for those he loved. 

The piece of paper he held in his hand almost torn from how tightly he held it, but Techno wanted to make sure it didn't tear. He had spent a long time writing what he wanted to tell his family. 

He sat the note under the empty jar, and throw his sword out the window of the bathroom. Techno followed after it, taking one last glance at the room before leaving the house. The last home he had known. 

Going under the cover of the setting sun, he made his way to the portal. All he had with him was his crown, sword, a sack of coins, and the clothes on his back. He was too scared to let his brothers know what he was planning. 

The hub was almost deserted by the time he spawned in. 

He could see a few vendors here and there as he made his way around, he could see a few that were packing up their wares for the night. One he saw, had children's toys and costumes. And one object from the table caught his attention. 

“Excuse me, miss?” he asked, coming up to the table. The woman looked up from the book she was reading, looking wide-eyed at the teen. “How much for that mask?”

He gestured to the animal mask hanging on the wall behind the lady. It was a pink pig mask, and it had caught his eye. It had white tusks sticking out from the bottom, and it reminded Techno of one of the piglins that he had seen while going to the Neither with his dad. 

The woman took a glance at it, frowning. “Um, two gold,” she said, shrugging. “I really don’t know. I’m just watching this stall for my dad.”

Techno nodded, fishing out three coins from his sack. “Well, then I’ll pay three for it, just in case it's more than two,” he said, handing them to the woman. She nodded before reaching up and grabbing the mask, handing it to him. “Thank you.”

With the mask on and his hair dyed, Techno felt like he could actually hide. So no one would know it was him, and he wanted it like that. No one would know who his family as if he hid. 

At the other end of the Hub, he was meet with a tried looking guy at his computer. 

“I would like a Sky Block Island.”

The man looked up at his, with bored green eyes, before sitting up a little and typing away at his computer. “Name kid?”

“Technoblade.”

“Good luck kid,” he said, handing him a newly-cut key. “Sky Block Island portals are over there. Try not to fall off.”

The teen took the key, nodding his head. 

He walked over to the portal the man had pointed out, looking at the char next to it. Showing how many people had islands. He plugged his name into the system and hit the enter button. Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the portal.

‘Sorry everyone,’ he thought. ‘This just needed to happen.’


	21. You're scarin' us and all of us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil didn't think would live to see the day one of his sons would get seriously sick.  
> He remembered the day Tommy started to get sick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Making this was not easy since the writer's block has started to kick in. I hope this is enjoyable and yall like it.   
> and I was told to let it have a good ending so-

Phil never thought he would ever live long enough to see one of his kids on their death beds.

Here he stood, standing at the foot of Tommy’s hospital bed, his eyes full of tears as he tried to stay strong for his sons. He didn’t know what he was doing at this point, holding on to the railing of the bed. 

Tommy had bags under his eyes, his cheeks seemed to be shrinking. the once blond hair looked almost like dried spaghetti, sticking to his forehead from sweating. And gone with the teen’s normal red and white shirt, replaced by a sickly yellow hospital gown. It made his son not looks like the child he raised, but an alien who had taken his place.

There was a stuffed bee that sat on the table beside him, having been left there the last time the teen’s best friend had been there.

Sitting in the hard chair off to his left was Techno, looking as if he hadn’t slept in days. His white shirt was ruffled, and there was a coffee stain on his shoulder. A red jacket hung on the back of the chair, a book back sat beside him. And his golden-colored hat laid on the window sile. Dyed pink hair that looked almost like a rat’s nest, reaching down to his shoulders.

“What did the doctor say?” Techno’s voice was ruff, likely from lack of rest. “Any good news?”

He shook his head, blue eyes landing on the sick boy again. “No, and they still say there is nothing they can do at this point,” his voice sounded foreign to even himself. Phil felt drained from what life he had at that point, tears slowly streaming down his face. “He’s been like this for a week, how can they not have figured anything out at this point?”

“Dad, don’t worry,” he said, standing his feet. The pink-haired man stood taller than his father, almost two heads higher. The man wrapped his arm around the man who raised him, holding him close. “They are doing everything they can, I’m sure. Wil gonna be back in a bit, why don’t you sit down?”

The blond man nodded with a sigh, sitting down where his son once sat. He prompted his head onto his hand, leaning onto. It wasn’t long before the father falls asleep, the crying he had been doing taking its toll. He fell into the land of dreams and memories.

Phil could remember the day that Tommy started to get sick, could remember it like it was yesterday. Not almost half a year ago.

It was after school, and Phil had the day off. All three of his boys were home, and he could hear Tommy playing a video game in the living room, the sound of the tv almost on full blast. He could also hear the soft guitar of his son upstairs, even over the loud game the youngest played.

He was fixing dinner and was cutting up potatoes for some cheese potatoes, a recipe he had found on Pinterest the night before. He thought his boys might like them, and it was easy to make. 

Then he heard the coughing from the couch/

It was subtle at first and he thought nothing of it. It was probably Tommy taking a sip of whatever drink he had and it had just gone down wrong. It was nothing to worry about. 

But Tommy kept coughing. It kept going for almost a minute before Phil went to see what was wrong. 

Tommy was hunched over his knees, his hand to his mouth as he coughed his little heart out. The father sat beside him and started to rub his back, trying to comfort his son. Then he saw the droplet of blood that escaped his son’s hand, and he grew panicked. 

“Tommy, let me see your hand.”

His son coughed once more before removing his hand from his face. The sight was terrifying to the father. 

The hand was covered in dark red blood glop, it was almost sickening. Around his son’s mouth was even more blood, that was slowly tricking down his face. Phil could see the tears in Tommy’s eyes, silently asking what was happening. 

He wished he knew, and he wished he knew how to help him.

“What is happening?” Tommy asked, his voice sounding almost like he had tried to swallow sandpaper. “What is wrong with me?”

Phil didn’t know how to answer, staring wide-eyed at him. Then an idea popped into his mind. He stood and head rushed to the stairs, before calling up for his son.

He cupped his hand around his mouth, his other hand holding onto the railing. “Techno, could you bring a towel down here?” he called out. “It’s very important.”

Before long, the sound of footsteps reached his ears, and down came the teen, white towel in hand. He had headphones wrapped around his neck, and he most likely was in the middle of recording an episode of Minecraft.

“What’s going on?” he asked, red eyes staring at his brother. Phil took the towel and rushed back over to his youngest, having him hold the towel to his mouth. “Why is he bleeding?”

Phil shrugged and watched as his child start hacking again. It made his heart hurt just from watching it all happen. Tommy kept the towel to his face, looking up at his family. His blue eyes were rounded in red, and then they rolled up into his head. The teen just passed out, falling forward onto the carpeted floor. 

Techno rushed forward, kneeling at his brother’s side. “What on earth is going on Dad?”

“I don’t know, Tech,” he said. “Help me get him to the car, I’m taking him to the hospital.”

The older teen nodded, and picked up his brother, following his father out to the car. They got Tommy laid in the back of the car, a blanket covering him. Phil told him to tell his older brother, to tell him where the father and the youngest would be at. 

He was worried, as anyone would be at that moment. 

His son was frecking coughing up blood for crying out loud! Phil was just wanted to know what was going on, and why his youngest son was sick.

Phil could remember that day that the hospital went to work on helping his son, and the look of fear his son gave him

The feeling of being shaken away took him from the memories of that day, and he almost fell from the seat he sat in. his back hurt and he regretted sleeping sitting up.

Kneeling in front of him was his oldest son, a foam cup of coffee in his hand. His brown eyes looked worried and his hair was a mess, either from wearing his beanie all-day or running his hand through his curly locks. And his brown coat was hanging over his frame, like an extra-long blanket. 

“Dad, you good?” Wilbur asked, giving a tired smile. “The doctor is here, said he had news about Tommy.”

That woke Phil up.

He rubbed at his eyes and looked around Tommy’s hospital room. It had gotten darker, and he saw that Techno saw leaning against the bed, sitting on the floor. Standing at the door was a woman in a white coat, a clipboard in hand, and a pair of reading glasses on her nose.

Phil offered a smile. “Sorry, it’s been a long day,” he said, sitting up. “How is everything, Dr. Mars?”

She pushed up her glasses and glanced down at the papers on the board. “Well, I’m doing fine,” her voice had an accent to it, but Phil was too tired to try and figure out from where. He saw a smile reach her face. “And I’m proud to say Tommy is going to be just fine as well.”

He thought his heart might have stopped at her words and the looks that reached both Techno and Wilbur made him think the same was to say of them. 

“So what was wrong with him?” Techno asked, standing to his feet. 

“Well, a blood test and a stomach test we did confirm a question we had,” she told them, turning his clipboard to show them a picture. It was an X-ray, and it was mostly all gray and black, besides a white blob near the bottom. “This is a tumor that has been slowly growing, and it stopped a little while ago. It has caused a little puncher in his stomach and has made a small cut in his lungs. Luckily, all we need to do is a little bit of surgery and everything is going to be alright.”

Phil felt a sense of relief washed over him, and he fell into the back into his seat. He looked at the sleeping figure of his son and smiled.

Everything is going to be just fine.


	22. That's Someone You Never Forget

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tubbo thought everything was normal when he woke up.  
> But he didn't know who the people around him were. And his uncle just wanted to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming to the end of this book. Only four more to go.
> 
> enjoy yall!

When he woke up, Tubbo thought everything was normal. 

He had thought he was back at his uncle’s house, he thought he was in his room.

His room was painted green and had bees and a few flowers that hung from the ceiling. The room with the bunkbed with his desk underneath. With his shelf full of knick-knacks and stuffed animals. With the photos of his mom, of his uncles and aunt. Of his grandmother and great uncles.

Oh, how he was wrong.

He woke up in a small room, in a bed not his own. The room was made of oak wood, not the painted concrete he was used to. There was not much in the room, besides from the very bed he laid in and a stool beside him. 

Tubbo first thought was that someone had kidnapped him, and had taken him away from his family. His second thought was that his head hurt.

It was like he had hit his head onto the ceiling again when he was on the top bunk of his bed. Like he was hanging upside down on the monkey bars for too long. 

He sat up and touched his forehead, trying to figure out why his head hurt too much. Wrapped around his head was a fabric of sorts, and it confused him and touching it made his head feel like it was going to explode.

The door opened and someone came in, quietly opening and closing the door. 

It was a teen, maybe around his age if Tubbo had to guess. His hair was a bright blond, like a dandelion he thought. He wore a white t-shirt with red sleeves and torn blue jeans that were ripped at the knees. 

When he saw that Tubbo was awake and sitting up, he grinned. “Tubbo!” he said, coming to sit on the stool next to him. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine, I guess.”

The teen nodded. “That’s good,” he said. “Does anything hurt?”

Tubbo shrugged. “Just my head.”

“I should go get you a healing potion,” he said, standing to his feet. “Do you need anything else while I’m gone?”

He rubbed his eyes. “Actually, I got a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Who are you?”

That shocked the blond. “What do you mean?”

“Where am I and where is my uncle?”

Before he could ask any more questions, the door opened once more. 

Standing at the door, was a man wearing a yellow sweater. His brown hair was a mess of curls being pushed down by a beanie. He looked tired from what Tubbo could see the bags under his eyes, brown eyes that looked like they had not seen sleep in a few dreams. 

“Tommy, how many times have I told you not to-,” he saw that Tubbo sitting up. “Tubbo your awake.”

He wanted to roll his eyes. “Yeah, I am,” blue eyes just rolled at the sight. “Who are you, people?”

The two shared a look. “You don’t know who we are?” it was the blond one who asked. “Like, at all?”

He shook his head, just staring up at them. They looked familiar, he had to emit. Though he could not remember where he had seen the two before. 

“I’ll go call Sparklez,” the tall one said, leaving.

The teen sat back on his stool, crossing his arms. “Should I, like, reintroduce myself?”

Tubbo shrugged, pulling slightly on the wool blanket that laid over his legs. “I guess? You know I’m Tubbo so…”

“I’m Tommy Innit,” he said, reaching up to pull slightly at the green bandana around his neck. It looked worn and old and had a few stitches sown around, probably from cuts that it had gained over the years. “We were best friends.”

That caught his attention, and he looked up at him. “Really?” 

And then Tommy went into explaining how they met, and all that time that had pasted, and it made Tubbo’s head hurt from trying to understand it all. How could so much time have passed, he thought as he goes into talking with the taller teen. They talked for a long time, maybe an hour or two before a thought crossed his mind.

“What year is it?”

“2020.”

He shook his head. “That can’t be right,” Tubbo muttered. “It can’t be, it was 2013 the last I check. I was just back home with Uncle Jor and Uncle Red, we were making crafts for Halloween, and Grandma Ia was there.”

“Wilbur is getting your uncle,” Tommy said. “He should get here soon, Big Man.”

But Tubbo didn’t hear him and was only thinking of what year it was. 

If it was 2020, then it had been almost seven years, he was apparently 16. His birthday wasn’t even until December, he hadn't gotten the chance to celebrate his 10th birthday. Well, he thought he couldn't remember. 

How had he lost his memories? Was he from the past? 

“Hey, Duckling, wanna take a deep breath for me?” It was the voice of his uncle, and it made all the running thoughts in his head stop for a moment. “It's all good, just breath kiddo.”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing his red jacket, was his Uncle Jordan. His sunglasses were held in his free hand, while his other hand was rested on Tubbo’s shoulder. He looked worried like something really bad had happened. He could see Tommy and Wilbur standing at the door, giving the two of them space. 

“Uncle Jor?”

The man chuckled. “You haven’t called me that since you were ten, Tubbo,” he frowned before his hand went up to run his hand through the teen’s hair. “Wilbur told me you couldn’t remember much. Can you tell me the last thing you remember?”

“Us making Halloween decorations,” he said, rubbing at his eyes. “Uncle red and Grandma Ia was there.”

Jordan blinked. “We haven't make decorations since you were like 10,” he muttered, glancing back over at the two brothers at the door. “Tubbo what year is it?”

“2013?”

The mam’s eyes grew wide. “And you don’t remember anything after that?”

Tubbo shook his head, and he started to pull at his fingers. The action confused him, when did he ever do that? It felt normal, he realized, almost like a force of habit. 

“Wilbur, I’m going to take him back to my house,” his uncle said, standing to his feet. “Ianite should be able to help him, I think. Or at least give me some help figuring how why he can’t remember anything from the past few years. Maybe she can help him.” 

The tall man nodded and turned to the blond teen beside him. “Get Tubbos stuff in his bag, I’ll go tell the others that Tubbo won't be here for a little while.”

“I don’t know how long it will take to get his memories back,” Jordan told them, shoving his sunglasses onto his face. “And thank you for taking care of him, I don't know what I would do if he got hurt. I’m sure my sister’s ghost would have my neck if I had let you guys get him hurt.”

Tubbo let out a huff. “I’m not hurt though.”

Jordan ruffled his hair again. They watched as Tommy stuffed a few shirts and jeans into a faded green backpack, and then put a stuffed bee on top.

“Can I hold that?” Tubbo asked, pointing at the bee. 

The teen nodded, handing it to him before giving the now packed bag to the red-coated man. He wished them luck, watching as the uncle led his nephew from the room. Tommy was worried for his friend, for the teen he saw as a brother. 

Jordan stuck his head back into the room. “If things get a little better, I’ll have him call you ok?”

That had Tommy smiling slightly. 

The uncle and nephew made it home with not much trouble, besides a little traffic in the hub and Jordan almost dropping his key for their home portal. 

Their world was small, not even a full server. It was just their little farmhouse and their garden. But to Tubbo, it was home. The house looked a little more worn from the last time he had seen it, and there were a few new toys here and there, and Tubbo was sure he had not left them there. 

“Your room should still be in one piece,” Jordan told him, opening the front door. “Just be warned, Ia-”

He was cut off by a small blur of purple and blue almost tackling him into a hug, and it started Tubbo. The figure, it turned out, was a little girl. Her hair was a dark purple and her eyes were dark green, like emeralds. She wore a blue dress that reached her knees with a little purple belt around her.

“Uncle Jor!” her voice was light and childlike. “Your home and you brought tubby with you. YAY!”

Tubbo wrapped his arms around his middle, backing away from the strangled little girl. It wasn't the fact that he was scared of her, he just didn't know who she was. It was a new face that he didn’t know. 

Jordan placed a hand on the teen’s shoulder. “I forgot you don’t remember Ianita,” he said. “This is Ianite daughter, she has been living here for a few years now, buddy. She’s like my little sister.”

He nodded and looked down at the litter girl. She just looked up at him, before grabbed one of his hands, dragging him up the stairs. Tubbo looked back wide-eyed at his uncle, who watched him get pulled away. He had dropped his bee while getting pulled along, it rolling slightly down the stairs before stopping at his uncle’s feet. 

The last he saw of his uncle was him picking up the plush.

Ianita dragged him to a room that was painted a light purple. The door was wide open, and the small girl had let go of his hand by the poster covered door. His eyes went wide as he looked around the room. There was a small bed pushed against the back wall, a thick pale blue blanket with many little stuffed animals. 

And in the middle of the pile was a stuffed bee with a little pink bow on top, and it reminded Tubbo of the bee that he had. The one his uncle was holding for him.

“Tubby, this is Twisty,” the girl said, picking up the bee and holding it up so he could see. “You gave her to me for my birthday.” 

He looked at it, but he couldn’t remember giving the gift. 

“There's a lot of stuff we need to remind you of,” said a voice at the door.

Standing at the door was his uncle, still holding his stuffed bee. He walked in and placed a hand on Tubbo’s shoulder. “And we will work through this together, ok Kiddo?”

Tubbo nodded, looking at the two people around him. Maybe he would get his memories back, but only time would tell he had to guess. And with the people around him, his family, he thought that maybe they could get through his together.


	23. Wilbur the Grateful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur was grateful for his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote it. and it was almost all done on Thanksgiving day, and It's really long. Imma proud of myself.

Wilbur would always be grateful for his family.

He stood in shock as he watched the truck hit his father’s car, watching as smoke piled into the air. Watching as the air filled with the smell of burnt rubber, watch as the owner of the truck stubbled out of his car and pulled out his phone.

Wilbur was grateful for Niki.

He heard his best friend talking rapidly on the phone beside him, most likely talking with someone to come help. Wilbur could hear her shaky breath, could hear the sound of tears in her voice. 

Wilbur was thankful for his son.

“Dad, what’s happening?” He was in his car seat, still in the car. He was trying to turn his head to the sound but was just too short to see over the back seat. “What was that sound?”

He wanted to tell Fundy that everything would be alright, to tell him not to worry his little redhead about anything. 

Wilbur knew it was a lie, one just waiting on the tip of his tongue. He wanted to reach into the car and hug his child, to tell his son that his grandfather and uncles would be alright. 

He watched as his two friends started to hug him, both a little taller than his son, they saw what happened. Wilbur wanted to hug them all, to assure them that everything would be alright.

Wilbur was grateful for his friends.

He felt someone grab his arm, to pull him along to the end of the driveway. Getting knocked out of his thoughts, he saw that it was Bad who was tugging on his arm, Skeppy already ahead of them, halfway to the crash site. 

Running along with them, not listening to the sound of Niki calling back for him. Not listening to his son calling for him. 

The car was like someone had stepped on an empty soda can. The truck as the foot, and his father’s car as the can. The metal pulled back and he could see glasses littering the pavement. 

He could hear the sound of an ambulance coming their way, and that filled him with slight relief. 

Skeppy beat them to the scene and was trying to pull open the passenger side door. He joined him, and both of them were able to get the door open after a few pulls. 

His brother was on the other side, looking around with wide eyes. Techno looked like he wanted to say something, probably to ask what happened. He had his hand on his seat belt, and Wilbur was grateful everyone remembered their seat belts. 

Oh lord, he was grateful for seat belts. 

“Techno, you alright?” it was Bad who had asked, glancing in on the pink-haired man before going to try and open the door behind him.

The sirens were getting closer. Wilbur could see them coming down the other side of the street.

“I-I think I’m fine,” said his brother’s monotone voice. “What-what happened?”

He watched as a paramedic jumped out of the car and had the three men stand back, to let them work. 

Wilbur wanted to help, but he knew he was still too much in shock to help. 

Bad dragged them off to the side, and he wrapped an arm around his friend, trying to console him. To try and help him.

And Wilbur was grateful for that.

Soon, he was lead back up to the house, and he sat on the front porch, Niki beside him. She was trying to take his mind off of what was happening down the driveway, to take his thoughts away from what had happened not that long ago. The two men had taken the three kids back into the house, away from the sight near the road. And Skeppy promising to call Tubbo’s parents, to tell them what happened.

He could see the smell of the burnt rubber. 

Wilbur watched as a firefighter, who had shown up not long ago, and the paramedics pulled a figure from the car. He couldn’t tell if it was one of his brothers, Tubbo, or his dad. But from the shouts he could hear, it made him scared. 

The ambulances drove away, leaving the firefighters with the wreckage of vehicles and smoke.

At one point, a medic came running up to them, and Wil stood to his feet. 

“We got everyone out,” he told them, pulling his jacket closer to himself. “You are free to follow, but I don’t know when you can see everyone. The guy driving the truck said it was no one’s fought by the way. This is a blind drive, neither of the drivers could have seen this coming.”

That didn’t help much, but he nodded.

It was all a blur from there. He could remember sitting in his own car, but with Niki driving. The boys were not there, he realized after a while, a song playing on the radio, and neither was Bad or Skeppy. 

“Their back at the house with the boys,” Niki said, seeing his lost look. “They’re getting Dream and George’s parents to come to pick them up since we’re having a family emergency.”

Wilbur rubbed his eyes. “Did anyone tell Fundy what is going on?”

She shook her head, and the world went back to being a blur of colors. 

The next thing he knew, he was sitting in a hospital room, sitting in one of those hard chairs. He was in Techno hospital room, Wilbur realized after a while. 

His brother was asleep on the bed, his pink hair spread out around his head like a halo. He wore a pale blue hospital gown, and Wil could see that both his hands were wrapped up in white ace bandages, almost like casts. It was dark out, the sun having set along time ago, and the only light in the room was a standing lamp in between the two brothers. It made the room feel even colder than it was.

Wilbur was grateful for hospitals.

The only sound in the room was the heartbeat monitor and his brother’s slow breathing. He looked peaceful, he realized. Techno didn’t look as stressed as when he woke up that morning. Like college wasn’t weighing down on his shoulders anymore. 

He was so lost in thought, he didn’t hear his brother start to wake up.

“Wil?”

Wilbur sat up with a jolt, brown eyes staring wide-eyed at his younger brother. He had a cut on his check he realized, one that had a patch sitting on top of it. His hair was a mess, almost a rat’s next if he was to put it simply. 

“Hey, Tech,” he said, pulling his chair up closer to the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Like you hit me with your guitar again back in middle school,” he muttered, trying to rub at his face, but found his hands were covered in the bandages. “What happened?”

“You were in a reck, with Dad, Tommy, and Tubbo,” he said, remembering everything that happened today. “I think that Dad is still in surgery, and the boys are sleeping in their rooms.”

His brother groans, and looked at his hands. “Well, it looks like I’m not writing anything soon, collage can suck it,” that made Wilbur crack a smile. “Did the doctors tell you if everyone is alright though?”

Wilbur nodded. “Tommy got a broken arm and leg,” he said, running a hand through his hair. It had to look like a mess at this point, from how many times he had run his hand through it. He tried to remember what all the doctors had told him the past few hours. “Tubbo had a piece of glass stuck in his throat, and the doctor’s don’t know if he’s gonna be able to talk again. And they told me dad had a punctured lung.”

Techno closed his eyes, letting out a pained sigh. “I should have seen that car.”

“It’s not your fault Tech,” Wilbur told him. “Dad’s house in on a blind drive, it’s no one fault. Not even the guy driving the truck.”

“It was a truck? It looked so much smaller though.” He looked around the room again. “Help me sit up, I wanna get my butt out of here.”

“I don’t know if the doctors would let you-” Wilbur tried to say, before rushing up to help his brother sit up. “You’re not getting out of that bed.”

“Watch me.”

Wilbur was grateful his brother was still stubborn,

Before he could even say a word to stop him, Techno had thrown off his blanket and had hopped out of the bed. He used the sidebar to keep himself standing before grabbing onto the IV stand and dragged it along. The pink-haired man stumbled his way out of the hospital room, his older brother fumbling behind him. 

Wilbur watched as Techno made his way to a nurse’s station, asking where he could find his little brother. The nurse just looked up at him with wide eyes, most likely not thinking the man would be up and about after what happened that day. She pointed over down another hall, looking like she wanted to say something, but the pinkette just nodded and made his way down the hall. 

He made it to one of the closed doors, looking at the clipboard that sat outside of it, and then walked himself into the room, Wilbur not far behind.

The room was made for two people, with two beds on either side of the room. On one side oh the room, was their little brother. There was a bandage wrapped around his head, and only a little bit of his blond hair stuck out over the white fabric there was a cast on both his arm and one of his legs, both on his left side, from when the truck had rammed into him. There were even a few patches around his other arm and face, and Wil could see a large bandage sticking out of his hospital gown.

On the other side of the room was Tubbo and he looked much better than the other teen did. His hair was a mess, and there was a large patch of white around his neck, and the teen looked like he was having a fitful sleep. Like Techno, there were bandages around his hands, but it was mainly on his wrist, unlike Technos fingers. 

Wilbur was grateful that they were still alive.

Sitting in between the two was Niki, who was on her phone before the sound of the two men coming in startled her. Her own hair was a mess, and it was pulled up into a messy bun. 

“Why on earth are you doing up?” she said, standing up before grabbing on to Techno’s arm and sitting him down where she once sat. “What are you thinking? You are hurt! Why are you up and walking?”

Techno huffed while sitting on the chair, before grumbling. “I wanted to see how Tommy and Tubbo were doing.”

“They should be fine,” her soft voice spoke out, sitting on the end of Tubbo’s bed. Her eyes cast over worriedly at the teen. “Did Wil tell you what the doctor said about Tubbo?”

He nodded, and Wilbur sat at the foot of Tommy’s bed. “He most likely won’t be able to speak and his parents are out of town for the rest of the week, and they said they would try and get here as soon as they can. We’re his adults until further notice, however.”

Techno nodded sagely. 

The room laps into a bubble of silence, besides the heart rate monitors. It was almost driving Wilbur up a wall if he had to put it bluntly.

Then there was a knock at the door, and a man in a white coat stuck his head, a tuff of brown hair. “Hi?” he slowly walked in. “I was coming to check on Mr. Watson-Blade, but he wasn’t in his room. A nurse told me that a man in a hospital gown had asked where his brother was. And lookie here, I found my patient.”

The pink-haired man tried to rub the back of his head, falling from his bandaged hand. “I wanted to see how the children were doing.”

The doctor laughed. “Well, let me introduce myself,” he said, holding his clipboard to his chest. “I’m Dr. Blake, the head doctor on your family’s case. I’ve come bearing good news.”

That made the three adults peck up, their attention fully on the doctor.

“Is it about our dad?” Wilbur asked, fiddling with his sweater sleaves. “Is he ok?”

Dr. Blake smiled. “I’m proud to say his surgery went well, and your father is now resting in his hospital room in the other hall. You can see him tomorrow, however, since the man needs to rest. Like you should be doing, Mr. Blade. You were in a serious car crash today, sir. You need to rest.”

Wilbur was grateful for bossy and stubborn doctors. 

“Whatever,” his brother grumbled, before getting lead away by the doctor. The two best friends had a good laugh at the pink-hair man retreating form. 

Wilbur was grateful his family was all alive and well, that was all he could ask for. 

Wilbur was grateful no one was dead.

And he was grateful that at least these wounds they have gained were ones they could work through.

And that was all he could ever really be grateful for. 


	24. And the Saints we see are all made of Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niki never thought she would be a mom, but these two teens made her feel like one with each passing day.  
> And no one messes with this woman's kids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The third to last one shot for this book, whoop whoop.   
> NANO is fun but is stressful. 
> 
> Enjoy yall!
> 
> and yes, this is shorter than my others, I ran out of ideas-

To say Niki was mad would be an understatement.

She was livid. 

Steaming at the ears.

It had been a calm, clear day. The sky was bright blue, the sound of cats meowing and dogs barking filled the air. The ground was filled with fallen leaves from the And she could hear the sound of people laughing not far from her, and that made her smile.

Her bakery was having a quiet day, and not many people had stopped by that day. That left her with only the warm ovens and a few good books she had been planning on reading. It was a calm day, Niki smiled at the thought, a good day to say the least.

She had just put a batch of bread into the oven when the door slammed open.

Standing at the door, dripping water onto the wooden floor, was Tubbo. His pale blond hair was sticking to his forehead and face, like if he was wearing a hat for too long. And his green shirt was soaked, and torn in many places. She could see water that escaped his eyes.

Oh, those were tears she realized.

Niki rushed around to him, putting her hands onto his shoulder, checking him for injury. “Tubbo what happened? Are you hurt?”

A sob escaped him and he almost knocked him down from how he hugged her, and she felt him start to cry into his shoulder. It made her heart felt like it was just torn in two. 

Why was her kid sobbing and drenched in water?

This kid, this teenager she had watch go through so much, was crying. Niki wrapped her arms around him, gently running her fingers through his hair, trying to console him. She had no clue what had happened, maybe the stress of being president had finally caught up to him. But that would not explain why the boy was soaking wet. 

“I hate him, I hate him,” he muttered, almost too quiet for her to hear. “I hate him.”

“Who do you hate?”

Another sob racked the boy’s body. “Vikkstar.”

She froze at that. She could remember the day that the man had joined the server, followed by another man. She could remember the way that the man had cast over the crowd around them, a glint in his eyes. It had unnerved her. 

Niki swallowed down her fear. “What did he do?”

“Tommy challenged him to a duel,” he started to hiccup at this point. “Said he wanted to show him he was a man and not a kid. He-he shot Tommy, and his scar from the duel with Dream reopened, and- Oh God Niki, he’s bleeding and Vikk pushed me into the water when I tried to help him.  _ He’s still bleeding out, Niki. _ ”

That made something snap within her. 

Vikk was someone Tommy looked up to. A role model just like his older brothers was. 

She pulled herself away from the boy, before reaching behind the counter. Niki pulled out a towel she kept there, along with the first aid kit she owns. She wrapped the towel around the boy’s shoulder, making sure to gently wipe his tears away with the fabric. 

“Let’s go help him,” her voice was a little higher than it normally was, and she felt tense. Not only did someone push Tubbo in the water, but they had gotten Tommy hurt. “Do you mind leading the way? Or would you like to stay here if you like?”

Tubbo shook his head. “I wanna help,” his voice was still sob rekt, but she could tell he was trying to act tough. He was just wanted to seem like he was grown up, she realized. 

And Niki was about ready to tear into a man, who had hurt these two boys. 

As much as she didn't want to admit it, she had grown fond of the two teens. 

Niki had never planned on getting attached to them, had never planned on having children. The thought had always scared her if she was being honest. She had always been good with kids and was everyone goes to ask to babysit when she was younger. 

But she had grown fond of the boys, and if she had to put it simply, she felt like a mother whenever she was around them. 

Be it helping them get bandaged up after a fight with mobs, or helping Tubbo make Honey bread, or even consoled Tommy after a nightmare. Where the adults in their lives might have failed, she had tried her best to step in. 

The area that Tubbo lead her to was open, and right next to a boat dock. 

And standing on the dock was Vikk, standing over a lump who was shaking on the ground. And the sight made her blood boil. 

There was a crowd that had gathered, all watching in shock. 

The blur shirt man was laughing, taunting a figurer who was painted red. She could see his red and white shirt slowly starting to become even redder, go with most of the white of the shirt. And from where she stood, Niki could hear the boy sobbing. 

And like she was running on autopilot, she had dropped the first aid kit and made her way over to the man. It was like her body was working but her mind wasn’t. When she has reached the two, she tapped Vikk’s shoulder.

He looked up, brown eyes glaring up at her. “What you want?”

Her response was to punch him right in the nose.

Vikk went stumbling back, and right into the water below the very dock he once stood on. He fell into with a loud splash, and the crowd around them let out a gasp. 

She looked over the crowd, holding her fist in her hand, trying to get over the feeling of the punch. “You should all be ashamed,” Niki said, before gesturing for Tubbo to come over. He had the first aid kit in hand, and his tears had dried. “Tommy is bleeding to death, and none of you even tried to help him. And do you realize how tormented his boy is? How tormented Tubbo is? They are children! They might act like they are not impressionable, but for the love of God! Treat them with respect and help them for once.”

No one spoke a word while she turned around and started to help the crying, bleeding boy. Tommy was still trying to stop his tears when they got him patched up, and away from the dock. 

Niki took one last look at the crowd, looking each other in the eyes before throwing Tommy’s arm over her shoulder. Tubbo grabbed his other hand, and the two carried the tall teen away from the people, and back to the woman’s bakery.

It was safe to say that no one was able to look Niki in the eyes after that for a long time.

.


	25. Sweet Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno was worried about his brother, and it turns out there was a reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming in close to the end of NANOWRIMO everyone, and I'm excited to be finishing this thing up. I am pleased to say that I am only 2k away from being done. BUT, that doesn't mean I cant have a fic down on the 30th, since tomorrow's fic will probably be the last one I need for the month.   
> Enjoy this everyone.

Techno knew something wasn’t right.

It had started as something small, almost like a mouse running across the floor. His little brother had been slacking in his sword training and seemed to be getting worse by the day. Tommy had almost taken his foot off not that long ago. 

He had thought it was just Tommy being an idiot, not paying attention. 

Turns out it was much more than that.

And the teen passing out made him worried.

It had been a normal day in Pogtopia. He had been working on his potato farm a little bit more, adding another area for the crop to grow in. He had left his cloak back in his little room, along with his crown. It was useless to wearing them, he reasoned, since it was just him and his brothers who stayed in the ravine. 

He had gotten most of it down by the time he heard the sound. It had knocked him from his thoughts, and he had dropped the bag of potatoes he was carrying onto his foot. Techno let out a curse, as the crop rolled out of the sack. 

Techno grumbled as he stomped out of the room, about ready to punch whoever had startled him. Not that he would tell anyone he had gotten startled, he had a reputation to uphold. It was more of an annoyance, to be honest. 

The ravine had just been through a decoration, something they all agree would make it feel more homely. And laying on the stone stairs leading down was a snoring figure

It was his little brother, he noticed when he had gotten closer. He was almost falling off the side of the steps, and the drop would leave a mark. He remembered when Wilbur had fallen off a short distance once, it was nothing compared to where Tommy laid asleep. 

But was he asleep?

He made his way up the stairs, almost concerned his brother might have dropped dead or something. It looked like he had just fallen over, like a house of playing cards after someone pulled out the bottom card. 

What concerned him, however, was the way he was slowly slipping off the edge. 

Tommy was laid face down on the steps, and it helped the sound of his snores grow louder. 

Being the big brother he was, Techno grabbed the blond’s arm and pulled him up, his head lulled to the side. There was a nasty cut from him falling face first, which worried the pink-haired man quite a bit. It ran almost all the left side of his forehead, and it was still slightly bleeding. 

Wrapping the teen’s arm over his shoulder, Techno started to drag his brother down to the blond’s room. It made the man wonder if his brother had just tripped and that had knocked him out, or something worse had happened.

By the time he had gotten them to the bedroom, Tommy was coming to. 

He moved his head, trying to look around at his surroundings. His blue eyes were unfocused, and blinking slowly. “What…” his voice was sleep-filled, and he tried to move, to wiggle himself from whatever was holding him. 

His brother almost lost his grip on him, and if the bed was not beside them, Techno would have dropped him on the cold floor. It would have woken his brother up, but if he did that, their dad would have his head. The blond laid on his back, both his palms digging into his eyes.

“You passed out,” Techno told him when Tommy had removed one of his hands from his eyes. He watched his brother try and understand what he said. “What do you remember, Tommy?”

“Um,” he stared off into space for a moment, blue eyes going hazy for a second. His brother shook his shoulder. “I, uh, was walking up the stairs. Was heading to see Tubbo, promised to would go see him on Monday. I’m late, I gotta get going, Techy.”

Ok, he had hit his head hard. 

Tommy had not called him that in years. Not since the boy was ten he believed, and it made him feel like his little brother was growing up. He had not called either of his older brothers by their childhood nicknames in years. 

“Tommy it’s Friday,” the pink-haired man said, running a hand throw his long hair. “When was the last time you slept? Or eaten for that matter?” 

The teen almost went crossed eyed, trying to remember, and had to put both his hands back over his eyes. “I don’t remember.”

That was concerning. 

Sitting on the foot of the bed, Techno pulled his hair back. If he had a hair tie, he would have put it up in a bun at this point, but he sadly did not have one. “Tommy, you need to eat and sleep,” his monotone voice said. He tried to show his emotions, to tell him that he needed him to listen for once. “It not healthy, child.”

“I gotta get stuff done, bro,” the teen said, sitting himself up and tried to pull himself off. “And Wil is too far out of it to do anything. It’s ok. I can do it.”

Techno had to grab him again when he started to stumble. He had a feeling this would go on forever if he didn’t stop his brother. Maybe he needed a plan. 

“Ok, how about this?” he said, after getting his brother to sit his butt back down. “You take a healing pot for your forehead and then you take a dang nap?”

“What? No!” was his brother’s reply, his eyes going fogged over again. 

“Then you can’t go see Tubbo for a week,” Techno told him. He saw the way the blue eyes when larger, and how his brother opened his mouth. “I’ll make it for two weeks if you keep fighting with me about this. A month at most.”

That shut Tommy right up. 

“You can’t do that.”

“Try me, you child.”

“I am five years younger than you.”

“A child.”

Techno chuckled at the look his brother was giving him. Tommy looked a little more awake, his face red as he tried to defend himself, to prove he is not a child. 

He got up, and left the room for a moment, promising to return with a potion. Now the thing was, Techno didn’t say  _ what _ type of potion he was going to grab. He had a few sleeping potions he had stored away for a rainy day when he himself could not sleep a wink. He mostly used them back on his skyblock island. It helped when he had problems staying asleep for longer periods of time. 

And lucky for him, it looked like a healing potion.

The pink-haired man was in and out of his room without much problem, besides almost knocking over his crown that laid on top of his desk. He had grabbed the sleeping pot and a roll of bandages, planning on patching up Tommy’s head. 

When he had gotten back to his brother’s room, Techno saw that Tommy was starting to nod off, but looked like he was fighting sleep. It made him chuckle. His little brother really was as stubborn as they come. 

“Here,” he said, handling his tried brother the potion. Techno watched as he downed the whole thing in one swallow. “That should help.”

Tommy’s eyes started to glaze over a bit more, and he was starting to really fall asleep now. The pink-haired man helped him lay down, smiling slightly at the sleepy glare the blond gave him. 

“Your a bitch,” the boy mumbled, before closing his eyes and turned his head to the side, almost out cold at this point. But techno could hear him mumble something before heading off to dreamland. “Night night Techy.”

“Good night Tommy,” he muttered, pulling the red blanket over the teen’s form. “Sweet dreams.”

He gently wrapped his head with the bandage round 

Techno just turned off the lamp on the side table and left his brother to sleep, which will hopefully before more than five hours. He was hoping that he would have a full ten hours asleep if the potion worked that long.

“Sleep tight little brother,” he muttered to himself, closing the door before heading back to his potato farm. He had much to do. 


	26. The 17th: Day of new beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil wished he had been a better father, and he wished he had the chance to fix what he had done. 
> 
> But then a little gift from above let him have his wish...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and this marks, on my NANO word counter, when I have reached 50, 227 words. 
> 
> But that doesn't mean I'm just going to leave this as the last one. I have one more day, and I may or may not get a head start on a little Christmas one-shot book, but I will talk about that at the end of this chapter. I got many plans in store for the future, just wait and see.

The day after the festival, and it was a day for mourning and celebrating. 

Of rejoicing and tears.

Of happy smiles, and tear-filled eyes.

Phil was the first to say he was mourning, as he had lost a son the day before. And it took a heavy toll on him. He had spent most of the night holding three sobbing boys while trying to hold his own tears in. 

Tommy mourned his older brother, a man he looked up to. A brother who helped him feel like he was actually part of their family. 

Tubbo mourned for a leader, and a friend. And someone he also looked up to like a brother.

And his grandson, Fundy who was mourning his father, and a life he never had to have with his dad. 

It all made tears fall, as he hugged the crying boys.

He had wish he could have been a better father, to all of his boys.

It was daybreak, and there was a sober air over everyone who had made camp in the rubble of the land. He could see Tommy and Tubbo sitting over by a fallen wall, with the taller of the boys wrapping his arm over the shorter. Not far from them Phil could see Quackity being comforted by George, the young man taking the loss of the ram hybrid hard. 

And his grandson was sitting in between both Niki and Eret, both trying to console the fox hybrid. His heart was torn at the sobs that recked the redhead’s form. 

Not far from him, he could see Techno hacking away at a tree with an ax, trying to deal with his grief in his own way. His pink-haired son had never been that great with expressing his emotions and was always one to show it in different ways. 

He stood with his wings held tightly around him, trying to hold himself in his mourning state. Phil was mourning for the family he tried to keep together for so long. He wished he had been a better father. 

Like when he made cookies for his brothers to say he was sorry when they were younger, it had warmed his heart.

But a soft crying reached his ears, from where he stood. It had knocked him from his thoughts, and he turned his head to the sound. Trying to find the place the noise was coming from. 

Then the broken form of the TNT room caught his attention.

He slipped away, hoping no one would notice him, trying no to be seen. It was hurt, considering Phil has to walk over the gravel and rubble that was left behind thanks to the explosion. The crunch of rocks under his feet and the crying filled his ears, and it almost unnerved him.

The crying became louder the closer he had gotten, and it had put Phil on edge. 

He told himself he would never return to that room, the room where his son’s body now laid. Where he had stabbed the man, his oldest child. The thought made him sick. It made his stomach do flips at the thought of what he might see within the room.

Taking a deep breath, the bucket-hat-wearing man stepped into the shell of the room. At first, he thought that he would see blood and the figure laying on the floor. 

But it wasn’t, it was just a different scene, to begin with.

Gone with the blood, instead, there were feathers scattered across the ground, like when a baby bird was losing its baby feathers. It was a mix of different shades of brown, Phil realized after looking around the room. And some of the feathers were even light gold color. It concerned him.

But what really took him for a loop, what the bundle of yellow that laid on the floor, in the middle of the fallen feathers. He took a hesitant step forward, and it was like the air left the room. It was a small baby, wrapped up in a too-large sweater. He could see wings sticking out from behind the child’s back, a dark brown that slowly faded into a soft gold color, like the feathers that littered the floor. 

Phil kneeled beside the child, staring wide-eyed at the winged baby. But when he saw the eyes the baby had, he thought he was going to cry. 

Those were the same eyes as his son, the same eyes that used to look up to him and grin. The same eyes that accompanied the laugh that his oldest once had. Tear filled brown eyes.

“Wil…?” he muttered softly, being careful as he tried to pick up the baby. The sweater almost acted like an oversized blanket for the boy, and Phil realized where why the yellow looked so familiar. It was Wilbur’s favorite sweater. “Oh my lord, what is going on?”

Then, from the folds of the knitted folds of the sweater, a small piece of paper fell to the ground. It was worn and yellow-tinted, from age if Phil had to guess. He could even see a little bit of ink that had gone through the parchment. 

Sitting down on the ground, with the baby in his lap, he opened the note. 

* * *

“Dear, Mr. Philza. 

I do hope this letter will bring you some light in this dark time, a time where everyone is mourning the loss of your loved ones; Wilbur Soot and JSchlatt. 

We have decided to give the two another chance at life. And a chance for their families to have another chance with them. 

Good luck, Mr. Philza.

Signed,

The sky gods.”

* * *

That made the air in his lungs seemed to disappear, and he dropped the note. 

This baby really was his son, then, the boy he had stabbed, the boy he held as he bled to death. The boy he mourned the passing of. 

He stood up, making sure not to drop the child before hurrying to make it back to where the others had been, hoping that the boy would not start crying again. Phil saw Techno first, sitting down near a fire from the night before, Tommy and Tubbo having migrated over to sit by the pink-haired man.

“Um, you would not believe who I just found,” He said, coming to sit by the boys. His youngest son was the one to first notice the bundle, and the looked like he wanted to say something. “It’s Wilbur, Tommy. Somehow the gods from the sky decided he needed another chance.”

Before anyone else could say anything else, Quackity came running over, holding a bundle of blue in his arms. The young man looked out of breath like he had just run from one side of the country to another.

He almost fell over if Tubbo hadn’t stood up and helped steady him. “Thanks, Tubbo,” he said down on a piece of rubble, showing the group the bundle. It was a small figure, a white furry figure. Big black eyes stared at the group before a tiny little hand started to reach out for Wilbur, the winged baby doing the same. “Um, I think I found a baby Schlatt.”

“The sky gods gave us another chance with them,” Phil said, smiling at the two babies. He sat Wil by the rubble and gestured for Quackity to do the same with the goat hybrid. “We get more time with them, and that is what matters.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might all remember my soulmate au I did with Wilbur becoming a dad and the one where Captain Sparklez was Tubbo's uncle, well, let's just say I might write one-shot books for both aus. 
> 
> and for the Christmas present, I plan on giving to you all, a fellow writer on here, the lovely author amooniesong has made an advent calendar, and I plan on making a one-shot book on it. It should be updated each day up until Christmas. After that, I will be taking a break from writing to enjoy the holidays. Most likely a week break.
> 
> And if you wondering why my word count on here is much smaller than 50k? I'm going to post the book I started at the beginning of the month, so that you can see I did not cheat.


End file.
